Infection
by Wedjatqi
Summary: Following their return from the crashed Hive ship, it appears that the infection has not been stopped after all. Within a day, Teyla begins to grow sick and she's getting worse. Inspired by the S5 episode 'Infection' JT. COMPLETE!
1. Prognosis

**Rating**: **M**

**Warnings: **Emotional, dark at times, and of course note the rating.

**Disclaimers**: I own no part of the Stargate world, and I make no money from this, so on and so forth, only my ideas are mine etc…

**Note:** I'm going to get posting these chapters up as quickly as possible, as the Beya JT site is starting the Enemy at the Gate and Beyond fun next weekend and book club after that, so I'm going to try to get this all posted asap.

Infection

Chapter One - Prognosis

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John watched Todd's back disappear into the event horizon and hoped that the Wraith survived his encounter with an Iratus bug. Then he realised what he was thinking and turned away from the Gate with a frown as it shut down. Why did life get so complicated? He didn't even like Todd, part of him really hated the creature, the nightmares of being fed upon still a part of John's standard selection of nightmares, yet Todd had helped them enough over the years for John to feel…something close to respectful caution towards him.

As John headed away from the darkened Gate, he saw Woolsey looking down at him from the railings above. The man's expression displayed much of what John was feeling – justified in the decision to let the Wraith go, yet also praying that that decision wasn't going to come back to bite them in the ass. John had made his argument for Todd's case, to uphold his promise to Todd, but Woolsey would be the one to take the political consequences on his shoulders if this went south. John felt a touch of regret at putting the city's leader in that position. He was getting soft as he got older. Woolsey nodded down at John and turned away into the control room.

John reached the foot of the large Gateroom staircase and began to climb up the steps, his body grumbling at the forced activity. Keller hadn't been too happy with him discharging himself from the Infirmary, but he couldn't take lying in one of those beds anymore. Out of all his team, he had fared the best from the crash, and maybe that had had something to do with experience, or because of where he had been standing at the time of impact. Teyla and Rodney had sustained head injuries as well as the standard deep bruises, whilst Ronon had managed to fall against something sharp that had left a large cut in his side, as well as a dislocated shoulder and twisted knee. John may have been in the best condition out of his team today, but he could still feel the bruises and a lingering strain to his left knee and ankle. He tried to hide the discomfort as he made it to the top of the stairs and turned towards the control room, only for his radio to burst to life in his ear.

"Mr Woolsey and Colonel Sheppard, please report to the Infirmary urgently," Keller's voice announced. The words were the standard parlance around here, but it was the tension in the Doctor's voice that made John's heart fall – something was seriously wrong.

Crap, he hadn't even had time to recover from the last crisis that the next one was here already?

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Jennifer turned from where Kanaan sat, the nurse removing the blood sample from his arm. Jennifer gave him a smile meant to give him support, but she knew there was little she could say or do to lift the fear in his eyes. She also knew that it was not his own health that concerned him the most. She had already taken a small blood sample from little Torren, which had been quick, but had still made him cry desperately. That Torren had been separated from his mother had not helped his tears.

Jennifer collected up her computer tablet, confident in her staff to get the blood samples tested as quickly as humanly possible. Of course, in this case, perhaps it should be as fast as the Ancients made possible with their advanced medical devices that turned blood testing into a far more efficient and speedier process than anything human made. However, those results couldn't come fast enough for Jennifer.

She moved through the main Infirmary, her body aching still, but her mind was clear. The splint around her left ankle made walking slightly cumbersome, and she had bruises over her left arm and her shoulder as if she had been attacked by something, but like Colonel Sheppard, she had fared better than the others. However, her mind was directed well away from the lingering discomfort of her own body, to the doorway to the isolation room. As she limped across the Infirmary, across the room she saw Rodney sitting up in his bed, the large bandage around his forehead clean and clear of any more blood, which pleased her, but she saw the new worry in his eyes. She smiled at him with as much reassurance as she could, and he smiled back as best he could. She smiled again, the warmth of his attention easing the worries in her, at least for a moment before she looked away to the open doorway to the isolation room ahead of her.

It was busy inside the smaller room, especially given the plastic sheeting around Teyla's bed took up much of the space. Nurses and technicians were setting up the last wall of the plastic tent, which would create the protective atmosphere inside into which they would keep Teyla.

Jennifer moved around the technicians receiving short verbal reports from her staff as she passed them – everything was set up and Teyla was stable for now. Jennifer gave some more orders as she kept on walking until she stood beside Teyla's bed, or as close as she could get without getting in the way of the technicians installing the plastic. In a few moments it would be up and she wouldn't be able to talk to Teyla again without a hazmat suit in place or over a radio.

In the bed, Teyla turned her head towards Jennifer.

"How are you feeling?" Jennifer asked her friend.

"Kanaan and Torren?" Teyla asked in reply ignoring the question, and that told Jennifer enough.

Teyla's temperature had begun to rise yesterday evening and by this morning it had become clear that she was fighting off an infection. They had given her antibiotics, assuming that her wound had simply gotten infected which was not too unusual, but the screening blood tests that had come back had shocked Jennifer. Teyla had been going downhill since, and she lay still in her bed, her skin almost as pale as the bandage covering her left temple.

"We've taken blood samples from them both, but as yet they appear well. It's unlikely that they have been infected, Teyla," Jennifer tried to reassure her. "They'll have to stay in your and Kanaan's quarters for now, keeping them away from everyone else, but I am almost certain that they will be fine."

"The rest of the you from the Hive?" Teyla asked weakly. The technician passed between them, the plastic behind him, the top lowered so that Jennifer could finish her conversation.

"I'm retesting the blood samples we all had taken yesterday, and we've taking more now, but so far we all seem fine." Jennifer didn't add that she had ordered blood tests for everyone who had come into contact with Teyla since she had returned from the crashed Wraith Hive.

"Doctor?" Mr Woolsey's voice cut through Jennifer's thoughts and she turned to see the tall grim man approaching the entrance to the isolation room, Colonel Sheppard beside him.

Jennifer smiled once more to Teyla, nodded to the technician and moved away to meet the two men as they entered, and she saw Colonel Sheppard's eyes scan the room to Teyla in the plastic tent. His eyes widened with alarm.

"What's going on?" He asked.

Jennifer angled herself to limit how much further the Colonel could enter into room. She held up a hand towards him, noticing how tired he still looked.

"It looks like Teyla has been infected by the same Wraith infection from the Hive," she informed them, and she heard the waver to her own voice.

There was guilt in her voice as well as worry, for it had been her gene therapy that had started this, but she pulled her professional control back into place, and focused back on the situation, not her fears. However, the worry and concern for Teyla could not be so easily tamed, and as Colonel Sheppard looked down at her, she knew he too understood how dangerous the situation was for Teyla. Only one Wraith had walked away from that Hive and he might already be dead.

"What? How?" The Colonel demanded hotly.

"She had several open wounds including her head injury, I'm guessing that during the crash some of the fluids from the Hive itself infected her wounds" she began her explanation as Colonel Sheppard looked away towards Teyla.

"Are we all at risk?" Mr Woolsey asked, drawing Jennifer's attention.

"I don't think so. I'm testing everyone I can, and the Ancient computer has made more sense of the infection now. As best as I can understand it, the gene therapy caused a mutation of the Wraith's immune system, which then aggressively attacked their own tissues and organs."

"Teyla isn't a Wraith," Mr Woolsey pointed out.

"Her Wraith gene," Colonel Sheppard guessed.

"Yes, I think that somehow her tiny amount of Wraith DNA was similar enough for the mutation to affect her."

"What's it gonna do to her?" Colonel Sheppard asked her worriedly.

Jennifer glanced down at the tablet in her arm, wishing she would see something different now in those results. She gathered herself and looked back up to the strong man before her, but she saw that he already understood. His complexion paled slightly as he looked away to Teyla again. Jennifer looked away from him before her heart broke open any more. She focused on Mr Woolsey and her job instead.

"She is reacting like she has a widespread infection, her body is fighting against it, but already I am seeing signs of organ failure," she reported.

"It's that fast?" Mr Woolsey asked, his concern clear.

"Yes," Jennifer replied.

"What can you do for her?" Colonel Sheppard demanded.

"I'm doing everything I can. We've started her on our strongest antiviral medications, autoimmune meds, anti-inflammatories, anything that could help, and if that doesn't work then…I'm working on it," she added hurriedly. She wouldn't stop looking to cure this as long as she kept breathing. She looked back to Mr Woolsey. "It would be really helpful if we could call in Dr Beckett to help me."

Mr Woolsey nodded as he tapped his radio earpiece, immediately putting in the order for a team to head out to the research base that Carson had recently been working in. He had been going back and forward between Earth lately, and fortunately he was currently in Pegasus. Jennifer just prayed she had missed something, or that Carson, in his genius, would think up something new to help their friend.

"What about Torren?" Colonel Sheppard asked with a renewed burst of concern. Jennifer couldn't help but notice that he hadn't asked about Kanaan.

"I've taken blood samples from him and Kanaan, but so far they're well. This infection passes by fluids, not touch, so I am hoping that they are both fine." Jennifer had thought how fortunate they had been that Teyla had been kept in the Infirmary following her return from the Hive, for if she hadn't been injured in the crash, she might have inadvertently infected Kanaan and their son. Since Teyla had been barely conscious since returning from the crash site, Jennifer was almost confident that the family were safe.

"Why have you isolated her?" Mr Woolsey asked, stepping back into the conversation. Jennifer wondered how quickly Carson could get here.

"I'm concerned that since the mutation has been acting like a virus, that it may, through Teyla, develop so that it will affect humans as well as Wraith." Mr Woolsey's eyes widened. "We're currently running tests, but I have isolated her as a precaution." Mr Woolsey nodded.

"What can we do?" He asked.

Jennifer glanced over her shoulder to the now complete clear plastic tent set around Teyla's bed. Inside, Teyla angled her head as best she could to look at them in turn. Beside Jennifer, Colonel Sheppard lifted a hand and gave Teyla a small wave and Teyla smiled. Jennifer looked back to the two men as she controlled her reaction at seeing her friend lying so still and pale.

"At the moment we're doing all we can, hopefully we can slow the damage it is doing to her body, until we can come up with something." She didn't need to add that the chances weren't good. "The main problem is that it is progressing amazingly fast and we have lost half a day in treating her before we realised what we were dealing with."

"Should we try and get Todd back?" Colonel Sheppard asked.

"I don't think it will help, I've got all the research from the Hive that I could."

She had downloaded much of the data into a portable hard drive back on the Hive, which she had kept in her jacket before the crash. Most of it had been salvaged. She had already gone over it a dozen times, and still she had no idea how to stop something like this. This was a disease that was behaving like a virus, but it wasn't, it was closer to an autoimmune disorder, but it wasn't really that either, and it was all ultimately linked in with an alien physiology. That the Wraith had reacted that way to the gene therapy in the first place, told her that her grasp of Wraith physiology had not been as complete as she had believed, so she felt like she was back to square one again. No, not square one – they would find something. They had to.

"We're going to keep working on it, nonstop, but I'm going to need another blood sample from you now Colonel."

"Sure," he replied. "Anything that helps."

His gaze was directed on Teyla. Jennifer looked round again to see one of the nurses, in full hazmat suit, inside the tent with Teyla. Teyla lay still in her bed, listening to the nurse who would be checking her vitals again. Jennifer glanced to the display behind Teyla where those vitals were displayed. Teyla's heart rate was too fast, her blood pressure alternating between too high and then too low.

Jennifer remembered how the Hive ship had reacted to the infection, its hull, its very structure, falling apart around them.

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Everything felt fluid around her as she rose up into conscious from time to time, sometimes aware of little other than muted sounds and lights around her, at other times she could make out voices, see faces outside the plastic walls. She struggled to remain conscious at those times, but the swelling of pain and sickness weakened her too much and she surrendered back into the dreams. Torren's cries haunted her through those flashing confused images and feelings.

Rubber covered hands touched her face and arms from time to time, perhaps dreamt or real she could not be sure, but the pain was constant. It echoed inside her feelings as much as inside her body. Torren's cries in her fevered nightmares tortured her and she desperately wanted to hold her son one last time, to kiss his soft hair and tell him how much she loved him.

The intensity of the dream eased eventually, as she plunged into the depths of proper rest for the first time in what felt like forever. She swam into it, but then felt fearful that she may not return from its depths, so she struggled against it, tearing her way back towards the sounds around her.

She opened her eyes this time to a world that made more sense. Her skin felt hot and slick with sweat and she had to blink her eyes to clear away thick tears. A wide dark shape moved into view over her and she blinked again to bring its blurred lines into focus.

A face appeared through the window set at the front of the wide hazmat helmet. A soft familiar smile met her eyes.

"Hallo, love," Carson said softly.

"Carson?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly.

"Yes, it's me," he replied, as if he understood that she might question what she saw. "How do you feel?"

She risked turning her attention towards the sensations of her body. The pain was still there, but more of a dull nature throughout her body, with sharp moments of intensity. Her skin felt cooler though.

"I had a fever," she surmised.

"Yes, you caught some secondary infections, but the antibiotics have worked at them at least," he told her. "Would you like some water?" He asked and a cup came into view with a bright coloured straw pointed towards her. She reached for it eagerly, but her arm felt far too weak to move. She did not miss Carson's worried frown before he controlled it. She pushed away the conclusions her mind tried to jump to, and instead she focused on lifting her head, setting her lips to the stray, and drawing the cool liquid up into her parched mouth. Carson's hand, in its rubber hazmat casing, supported the back of her heavy head as she drank.

Feeling slightly better for that, she rested her head back down onto the damp pillow under her. She smiled up at Carson. She was glad she had gotten to see him again.

He glanced away and she turned her head to see what he was looking at. The wall of plastic reflected the lights above her, confusing her vision for a moment, but then she saw them on the other side.

John stepped up closer, almost against the plastic and she saw him smile worriedly. Beside him Rodney and Ronon appeared, Jennifer behind them and all smiling with wide forced joy. She saw in their eyes the answer to the question she wished to ask Carson. The tears filled her eyes as John waved to her again. She couldn't hear them, only faint distant sounds were making it through the plastic and she wished she could hear their voices again. She would never hold her son again.

She looked back up to Carson fearfully. "Torren?"

"All his tests came back clear, Teyla," Carson assured her immediately and she let some of the tears free, feeling them trickle down her cheek. "He's fine, but we think it best that he and Kanaan stay away for now. There is a small chance that the mutation may become airborne between those with the Wraith gene. It's unlikely, but we don't want to take the risk."

She was nodding with him through his explanation. "Tell Kanaan…to take Torren to our people. To stay away from the city."

Carson frowned. "I doubt that's necessary, Teyla. We've got you well isolated for now-"

She reached up as best she could and managed to grasp a shaky handful of his rubber sleeve. "Please! Tell them to leave. Please, Carson," she pleaded with him. "I need to know Torren is safe…" She ran out of breath and the effort it had taken to lift her arm was exacting its price. She felt the world darkening around her, but she struggled against it. "Please…"

As she began to fade from consciousness, she heard Carson's promise and it allowed her to surrender back into the thick darkness of deep sleep somewhat more willingly.

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The stool was biting into John's backside, but then he had been sitting on it for hours.

He glanced down at the proper chair Rodney had vacated. It had a nice flat surface and he could sit back in the chair, but the higher stool gave him a better view of Teyla, and if she woke again she would be able to see him easier if he was perched up here. He wanted her to see him, to know that someone was near her, watching over her, and he could tell her that he had done what she had asked. John had helped Kanaan carry Torren's things to the Gate Room.

It had been an odd and sad thing to do, and since John had had very little voluntary contact with Kanaan until today, he hadn't really known what to say to the guy. Torren had been crying again, aware that something was very wrong, but he couldn't understand what it was. As others had helped Kanaan push a couple of boxes and baby bags through the event horizon, John had held Torren. It had been painful, trying to comfort Teyla's son, the little dark eyes looking up at John as if begging to understand, for everything to be right again. John couldn't do that, though he had tried, promising to take Torren surfing when he got back, but Torren was too young to grasp more than basic words. The cuddle he had understood though, and John had held him tightly, holding the little boy who he had grown to love so much. Then, Kanaan had approached, taking Torren from John's arms, offering words of thanks, though not quite meeting John's eyes as he did, and John had mumbled a reply.

Kanaan had settled Torren into his arms, the little boy's sobs interrupted by hiccups.

"Tell her I will be thinking of her always," Kanaan had asked.

The bile had been lingering in John's throat since he had heard the news of Teyla's infection, but at that point the feeling had turned into a burning sensation in his throat that almost cost him his voice. A part of him had always wanted Kanaan out of the city, out of Teyla's life, but in that moment, John had shared a bond of sorts with Kanaan. Teyla was dying and both of their hearts were breaking.

John had fought against that thought, and the realisation that little Torren might never see his mom again, but also against the need to comfort a man who he had always hated. It was perhaps a completely unjustified hate, a jealousy really, but sharing such a powerful moment with him had been weird. John's chest had hurt as he had smiled once more at Torren and he had agreed to pass on Kanaan's message to Teyla.

And so here he was, keeping his word for another person he didn't even like. But, he had made another promise to himself – that he was going to stay with Teyla all through this. He wasn't going to leave her alone for a minute if he could help it. The others were visiting in shifts, but John had managed to stay around all through yesterday evening and last night. He had changed clothes after leaving the Gate Room and he had had his meals sent up to the Infirmary so he hadn't had to leave since. Ronon had kept watch with him most of the time, but had had to leave earlier to have his stitches checked and then he had apparently fallen asleep under the nurse's care. The guy needed his sleep and John was here to call him if anything happened.

Movement behind him drew his gaze away from sleeping Teyla. Carson had returned to the city yesterday, eager and ready to save the day if he could, but John had seen nothing but stress on his and Keller's faces since.

"Hey, Carson," John whispered, the quiet tone seeming right even though Teyla was shut away in her plastic prison.

"She woken up again?" Carson asked as he reached John's side and they both looked in at Teyla.

"No. Looked like she was going to a few times, but no," John reported.

"We've made some headway understanding what happened to the Wraith," Carson reported, but his tone was far from enthusiastic.

"What'd you find?" John asked.

Carson lifted the tablet in his hand, but didn't consult it, instead he tucked it into the shelf of his forearm like it was a precious thing. "Looks like the gene therapy caused a mutation to two select proteins that clearly play a vital role in the Wraith immune system."

"Just _two_ proteins?" John asked.

"That's all it takes," Carson replied. "And they are fundamental, but the good news from that, is that humans don't have those proteins, so we won't need the hazmat suits anymore. And with Kanaan and Torren out of the city, we're happy to let people in and out of the isolation area." John felt a flash of relief. "But, you'll still need to weak a face mask and gloves, especially as we don't want to risk infecting her with anything else," Carson added immediately.

John nodded, feeling slightly better that he wouldn't have to sit outside her plastic prison any more. "You find anything that will help her yet?" He asked next.

Carson's soft frustrated sigh was answer enough. "There are a few ideas on how to influence the proteins, but the best so far is gene therapy."

John looked at him. "_More_ gene therapy? Isn't that what caused this problem in the first place?"

"I know, but if we can replace the proteins…" he didn't sound all that hopeful to John's ear. "The truth is that it might not be possible yet, and we're running out of time as it is." The last words were said even quieter and John's heart constricted. He didn't like this subject, but he had to know.

"How long?" He asked simply as he looked back to Teyla.

"Maybe a day," Carson whispered as his reply and John heard the strong emotion in the man's voice.

John nodded, his eyes locked on Teyla, and the tears were already forming in his eyes. He swallowed against it, blinking them under control. It wouldn't do for her to see him like this if she woke up now.

Carson's hand landed gently on John's shoulder and he squeezed briefly, then once more before he turned and left.

John fought on in his silent battle. There was still time and cures had been found at the last minute hundreds of times in this city. There was still hope. There would be a cure.

She stirred slightly in the bed and he rose from the stool, moving towards the plastic wall, latching onto the distraction from the pain in his chest. He watched her intently and she moved again.

He glanced round to where a nurse was working behind him. He moved to her side and pulled two disposable gloves out of the box there and one of the fabric face masks that she had put on the side. The nurse didn't say anything, just held up a medical gown for John to slip over his front. He took it from her and moved back towards the tent, but carried on past the stool and chair, around the end of the encased bed to where the zipped entrance was located. He pulled on the medical gown over the front of his uniform, pulled on the gloves, and then looped the two ends of the facemask over his ears. Feeling encased in fabric, he made his way into the plastic tent.

It smelt like a concentrated hospital inside, the antiseptic smell dulled somewhat through the mask. He moved to the metal stool beside the bed and sat down at her side.

"Teyla?" He called to her, and repeated it louder to get through the mask. "Teyla?"

This time she stirred at hearing a voice closer to her. He leant closer to her bed and she opened her eyes. He smiled down at her, but then realised she wouldn't be able to see that through the mask.

"Hey," he greeted her and she blinked tired eyes up at him.

"John?" She asked, her eyes barely focusing on him. Her arm had shifted under the sheet and he felt the urge to find her hand under the covers, to touch her in that small way.

"It's me, though this isn't my best look," he joked weakly, but she smiled at him. It was a proper smile and she kept it even as her eyes drifted closed again. "I wanted to tell you that Kanaan and Torren are with your people," he reported and her lids lifted enough for her to just see him.

"They are safe?" She asked, her voice weak and tired.

"They're both fine," he paused before he could pass on the message. "Kanaan said to tell you he's thinking of you," he had to glance away to the plastic wall as an excuse to not look at her as he told her that.

"Anyone else…?" She asked.

He looked back at her frowning at what she meant. "Is anyone else infected?" He guessed and she nodded. "No. Everyone else is fine, Teyla," he assured her. "Carson and Keller are hard at work to find a cure. They'll get there, okay?" He told her.

She rolled her head towards him, her eyes opening a little further now, but the expression he saw in their depths disturbed him. There was something close to sympathy in her gaze and it angered him.

"You've got to hold on as long as possible," he told her again, almost sternly. He had lived this horrible moment far too many times in the field and it was always this same look as he saw the eyes of the dying. She was weak and clearly in pain, but there was no fight in her left, no strength to her eyes. This infection had attacked her so fast that he hadn't realised how weak she had gotten. Seeing her strength gone was more shocking for him than seeing her so pale and weak.

"For Torren. You've got to get better and get back to Torren," he told her, latching onto something he knew would motivate her.

She frowned at that, her eyes seeming unfocused for a moment, and it worried him. She was far worse than he had realised. Carson had given her a day, but…

He reached to the side of the bed, pushing aside the edge of the covers and he found her hand. It was cold, but she grasped his hand in return, though he felt shocked once more at how weak she felt. He wrapped his hand further around hers, willing his own warmth and strength into it. His heart tightened and he felt the touch of tears again, but he forced them back. He leant closer to her again.

"For Torren, okay?" He told her, but there was a waver to his voice and he cursed it.

Now was not the time to lose it. He never lost it in front of anyone else, but it felt like she was dying in front of him, so quickly, her fingers around his already weakened from their hold. He folded her arm up so he held her hand against her shoulder, and he settled the covers back over her side to keep her warm. He worked to tuck them in, distracting himself and using the time to suppress the tears that were threatening every ounce of his will to control himself.

Finally he looked back to her eyes, to find them already on him and there were tears in her eyes. That didn't help.

"You're not going to go weak on me know are you?" He asked, reaching for anything. "Come on, you're Teyla Emmagan," he argued weakly the tears threatening again. "Warrior Princess." She actually smiled at that, understanding the reference now after an evening of Xena episodes that Rodney had forced them all to watch. He smiled with her, but it risked his composure again.

He looked away, to the plastic wall opposite him for an excuse, but he could feel her eyes on him still, willing him to look back at her. He swallowed and pulled on the strength he had and looked back down at her with more control of himself.

She was looking up at him, her eyelids fully open now, but he could see the pain and medication dulling her eyes' natural sparkle. Her focus was strong on him though and it was so sharply honest that it made him uncomfortable. Her direct gaze seemed to tell him to be honest about her fate, that she saw the tears he tried to control, and that she would miss him.

There were so many words that he wanted to say, that he dared not say, and they all clogged up his throat and made his head hurt. He glanced down from her eyes, not as strong as her. He looked at her hand in his, the stupid layer of the glove separating their skin. He wanted to remove the gloves, but he didn't want to risk passing anything on to her, anything at all; a cold, flu, or whatever. She was too weak as it was, and he already knew that Carson's assessment of one more day was far too generous. She knew it too.

He looked back up to her dark eyes. There was a tear rolling down one of her cheeks and he reached out with his free hand to intercept it without thinking. He reached to the table next to him, to the pile of cloths the nurses had been using to wipe her forehead and face. He carefully pressed one to her cheek, drying up the tears, and then the other cheek. As he lifted the cloth, he noticed there was a red tinge to it – there was blood in her tears. His heart jumped at the discovery, fearful for what it meant, and now doubly glad that Torren wouldn't be anywhere near her. The infection would even be in her tears. Blood or tears, it didn't matter, all of her was being ravaged by this infection. He knew what it was like to be infected with something so alien…

He jerked as the idea suddenly formed in his mind. He looked down at Teyla to see her eyes were half closed again. It would be a radical idea, but maybe it might just work…she was so weak though and…

"Teyla," he said to her and her eyelids opened slightly. "I'm just gonna go talk to Carson for a second, okay?" He asked her as he loosened his hand on hers. Her fingers jerked around his for a moment, as if she didn't want him to let go, and he paused.

"I'll be right back," he promised her, his chest tightening at the flash of fear he had seen in her eyes, even there for a moment . Going against all his normal fears, he reached out and touched his free gloved hand, to her forehead stroking softly up to her hair. "I'll be right back," he promised again.

Her hand loosened on his and he thought he saw a touch of embarrassment at herself for fearing him leaving. Hating that just as much as the need to leave her side, he stroked her forehead again, just beside the bandage that covered her cut that had started all of this. He lifted his eyes to the rest of her forehead. The impulse pushed him to it and he moved before he gave it too much thought. He stood up from his stool, leant over her and, through the thin cloth mask, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He pulled away quickly, the tears threatening, from the vulnerable exposure such an honest action had created.

He opened the tent's exit, moved quickly through it and closing it behind him. As he pulled off the facemask and medical gown, he looked back in through the plastic to see her eyes on him and that there were more tears on her cheeks. They were stained with blood.

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TBC


	2. Treatment

Infection

Chapter two – Treatment

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The lab space set near the isolation area had become Carson's entire world over the last day.

The latest tests sat on the screen in front of him and had been for the last five minutes. Seeing John struggle with the news of Teyla had been tough enough, to then come in and see the latest of her results. The tears had come and he had ridden through them, struggling to keep his composure.

He had lost many over the years, but he had yet to find a way to not been affected by those he knew personally.

Teyla would not last the day.

Her body was losing its battle and everything told him that she was already in the last stages of complete organ failure. There were few options left now, and truthfully, they were purely palliative. The researchers in another room downstairs had exhausted most options that had any chance of being applicable in the next day. Even putting her in the Ancient's stasis chamber wasn't an option anymore, because he doubted she would survive the initiation process. Even if she did survive the falling to sleep part, there was a very good chance that she would still die in the next few days since the chambers only slowed functions, not halted them, and her body could barely function as it was at any rate. If she survived that, long enough for a cure to be discovered, the chances were even higher than removing her from stasis alone would kill her. They were out of options and Carson had been struggling against that depressing conclusion since he had seen these results. Not for the first time, he cursed the gene therapy that had been his idea all those years ago.

"Carson?" John's voice broke Carson out of his depressive wanderings and he looked round with alarm at the tone of the man's voice. There were no alarms or nurses calling for his attention though. "I've got an idea," John added with a hopeful smile.

Carson took a breath, hoping his heart would calm down from its crazed jump. "What is it?" He asked as he sat back down.

John moved into the lab. "Do you have any of that original retrovirus that Ellia infected me with?"

Carson frowned at the question, but considered it. "The first serum, aye, I think so, we keep samples of everything we created, even if it didn't work the way we planned."

"Then, let's give it to Teyla," John said.

"Excuse me?" Carson asked.

John moved closer, his eyes bright, not with controlled tears anymore, now it was with hope. "The retrovirus. If we give her that old retrovirus, then it could cure her completely, right? I had amazing healing skills when I was infected, remember? Then we cure her of the bug powers the way you guys cured me, and she'll be back to normal."

It was hardly as simple as that, but Carson found himself running through the plan with sudden focus. There were plenty of problems with it, but…

"There's no guarantee that the old retrovirus will allow she can cure herself. She's weak enough as it is to go through that." Carson worried.

"What other chance does she have?" John asked passionately.

He had a point. Carson's mind was already turning around the possibilities. He rose up from his stool.

"If we altered it slightly, sped up the transformation with an accelerant maybe, made it a little more… We're going to need Iratus stem cells to treat her afterwards, but we should have some left on ice from Dr Bays' experiments…"

The ideas flowed with what needed to be done, it was an extreme idea, but it might just work… Teyla didn't have much time though and he rushed out into the Infirmary issuing hurried orders as he went.

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The needle looked innocent enough as Carson prepared it. It had taken them an hour to get to this point and it had been far too slow by John's liking. Everyone had turned up now, Ronon and Rodney now sat next to John, and they all watched Carson prepare John's plan.

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Rodney asked quietly.

"It's seriously risky, but if she really can heal herself this way, then…" Jennifer didn't need to finish the rest.

Inside the tent, Carson was leant over Teyla in her bed, talking to her. John wondered what was taking so long. Teyla had already agreed to it, though John had worried for a second that she had been going to refuse the retrovirus. Her eyes had shifted to him, stood beside Carson in their masked gloved looks. He had seen in her eyes the memory of how he had been under the influence of the retrovirus.

"Teyla, we'll keep you completely locked in here, you'll be safe, everyone else will be safe. We'll wait just long enough for Carson to be sure you're all cured and then you'll get the stem cell whatnot treatment. Trust me, it works great," John had reassured her with more conviction than he had felt.

Her eyes had studied his for a long beat, her indecision likely made stronger by her weak state. He hadn't minded the direct stare then, considering how much easier it had been to meet compared to the fair too honest and intimate stare they had shared earlier. Now he had a plan, now there was hope, and he was in control of all those weak fearful emotions now. He made sure she could see that confidence in his eyes.

She had nodded her agreement and with a sigh of relief, John had left with Carson to set the plan in motion. That had been an hour ago, and John had been forcing himself to sit calmly in here, and not pace impatiently up and down as he really wanted to. Every second that passed meant that she was growing weaker.

The team had all taken turns sitting with her, helping to distract her, and them. But, now it was time, and Carson was still wasting time in there. John's impatience had him tightening his crossed arms over his chest to contain the frustration at not being able to do anything to help her now.

"I mean, if this infection likes Wraith proteins, then won't it just attack the Iratus material as well?" Rodney asked quietly.

"It might," Jennifer replied honestly. "But the Iratus DNA is different enough that it might just give Teyla what she needs to fight off the infection."

They all lapsed into silence at that and they watched as Carson pushed up Teyla's sleeve and there was more talking before he finally pushed the needle into her upper arm. She glanced over towards them as Carson injected the retrovirus. They had all wanted to be close by. If Rodney was right, and the retrovirus actually accelerated this, then…there was the chance that it might kill her quicker or make her more dangerous, like those mad Wraith had been on Todd's Hive, and John didn't want to risk anything. He had made all the preparations he could, including guards outside the isolation room, just in case. All they could do now was to wait and see. That and pray.

Carson moved out of the tent, leaving a nurse to watch over Teyla. He pulled off his gloves and mask as he headed round to them.

"What was all the talking about?" John asked.

"Just wanted to make sure she understood what could go wrong," Carson replied quietly and John nodded with more understanding now. All eyes turned back to Teyla.

"How long until we know?" Rodney asked into the silence.

"Well, when Colonel Sheppard was infected the initial wound took an hour or so to heal," Carson replied. "She's still got a cut to her temple, so if that heals up quickly... If it does work, we'll need to give her plenty of time to heal completely. If we add the stem cell treatment too early then we might risk that the infection lingering in her somewhere still."

"We'll take regular blood tests, but we know from Colonel Sheppard's encounter with the retrovirus that we'll have at least a day or so," Jennifer added and John pulled a face at her comment. Those hadn't been the best days of his life and it had taken weeks to recover. Teyla would have to face that too, but it would be worth it. That was if she survived long enough for the retrovirus to work.

All eyes were on her, but she lay quiet and still now, her eyes closed. All they could do was wait.

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The change had begun gently, almost without her noticing, until she realised that some of her pain had lessened away and had not returned. The peace of that freedom from pain had allowed her to drift into a more comfortable sleep, but it was light and she remained largely aware of where she was and that people were near her.

Movement to her right drew her from that light empowering sleep, and she opened her eyes as her sleeve was lifted. She looked round and down, and saw for herself the blue raised area to her skin. A moment of fear passed through her, for just the shiny distinctive colour brought back many memories, but it passed, for this was her cure. She knew that now, because with each passing moment she felt stronger, more comfortable, and already the pain had entirely gone.

She felt different though, subtly, and not in the same manner as the infection had made her feel. She turned her head away from the nurse to where her friends hopefully remained, and she was not disappointed. John and Ronon immediately moved forward, their eyes searching for answers. She smiled at them and all of them smiled back, not with sympathy or fear in their eyes this time, but with sincere relief and joy. Carson moved around the end of the tent, and with more focus than she had had in days, she watched him dress in his mask and gloves again. She realised that she had no idea how long she had been here.

As the nurse checked Teyla's blood pressure, Carson entered the tent and moved around the end of the bed to stand at her other side.

"You look better already," he remarked through the layer of his mask.

"The pain has lessened," she replied and the lie surprised her, but she did not correct herself. The pain may return after all.

"Your blood pressure is back to normal," the nurse reported with a touch of surprise to her voice.

"Good," Carson simply replied and he leant over her to look at her upper arm for himself.

"It's grown already," the nurse added with more surprise in her voice.

"We expected that," Carson said more calmly. "We altered the retrovirus ever so slightly, to speed up its initial affects, and with your own immune system weakened, it's likely that the retrovirus got to work quickly without much defence from your system. It's likely all the symptoms we saw with Colonel Sheppard years ago will be slightly more pronounced with you initially."

Teyla glanced past Carson to where she could see John stood on the other side of the plastic, he was turned talking to the others, but then turned and looked back at her with a smile. She smiled back. She remembered the soft kiss to her forehead, and that he had held her hand – two things she had never remembered him doing before, with anyone. He had devised this plan for her from his own experience, and she was glad that finally some benefit had come from what he had endured all those years ago.

"Do you need anything?" Carson asked her, drawing her attention back to him. Before, she had been constantly in need of medications to control her nausea, pain, and light-headedness. She felt none of that now.

"I am alright at present," she replied.

"Just say if you need anything, okay?" He told her. She returned his kind smile and he moved away. "We'll continue checking on you every ten minutes okay."

She nodded and just before he was about to leave with the nurse, she realised that there was something she needed.

"I could eat something."

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John was hovering, but Carson understood. Ronon was no better, and Carson would have thought a laceration in his side and pulled knee would have slowed the Runner moving around, but it hadn't. Currently he and John were looking over Carson's shoulders. There was no point in doing so, since neither of them understood what was displayed on the computer screen, but Carson understood how they felt.

"So?" John asked for the hundredth time in the last two hours.

"Her latest test results suggest that her organ damage is reversing, though there are still some immune system irregularities, but that may be due to her system now dealing with the retrovirus as well, I'm not sure," Carson pondered.

"Did mine react that way?" John asked.

"At first, yes," Carson replied. "But, we don't want to make a mistake here, so we'll hold off with reversing the retrovirus for a while yet. To be honest, I'm thinking we should let it run its course for at least another couple of hours yet."

"It's been two hours and her arm is already like mine was after half a day," John pointed out worriedly.

"I'm not too worried about treating her for the retrovirus, because we developed that treatment on you effectively, we've even perfected it further since. I'm more interested in making sure that the infection is completely eradicated."

John stood back, as did Ronon, both of them satisfied for another ten minutes that Teyla was okay.

Carson set about recording the test results, adding his latest entry to her medical records, as behind him the two men waited with surprising silence. The Colonel paced though, to the lab's doorway, from where he had a partial view into the isolation room, and then back.

"She's sleeping a lot," John asked after a while, stood by the doorway.

"It's understandable, she's healing as much as she is changing from the retrovirus," Carson replied. "I think it's best to continue to watch and wait. We know a viral inhibitor will work to keep her lucid, so we can afford to let the retrovirus run its course for a lot longer. Maybe even through to tomorrow if we have to."

John glanced at him, making his doubtful opinion clear on that, though whether it was in reference to the viral inhibitor alone, Carson couldn't be sure. The inhibitor hadn't stopped John from throwing a few tantrums back when he had been in the early stages of the retrovirus.

"And there's this," Ronon added and Carson looked round to see Ronon patting the stunner strapped to his hip. It had been the only stunner that had worked on John.

"I don't think we're there yet," Carson replied, resisting the urge to point out that Ronon should be resting and not stood so long, and certainly not with a gun strapped to his leg. He held off from that though, for he understood. They all remembered the last time.

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Her eyelids felt heavy over her eyes, but she was awake. The sounds and scents of the room told her that the plastic walls had been removed, and she could clearly hear people moving across the room from her. She could smell the fabric wash on their clothing and the artificial scents to their skin as they moved around.

Her body felt wonderful, so strong after having felt so weak and sickly. The magic of that feeling swam around her, making the strength and pleasure warmer. She was strong again, and perhaps stronger than ever before.

She was also aware that she was imprisoned in this room now. In the few glances she had made around the room earlier, she had noticed the back of a uniformed soldier outside the exit to the room. There were far fewer people visiting her as well, and those that did seemed cautious.

She frowned in her half sleep, aware of the turning thoughts that made her feel trapped in a room by those she knew. The feeling of limitation annoyed her though, that she could not do what she wished, could not leave, could not see who she wished. The thoughts all rallied together.

Those nearby began to whisper to each other in low voices, drawing her further from her rest, but she kept her eyes shut. It was important that she know what they were discussing.

"It's spread across to her other arm now and reaching down to her elbow," a soft female voice was whispering, but Teyla heard it like the woman was stood right beside her.

"We expected it to move faster than the case from several years ago, but we should let Dr Beckett know," another female voice replied. "We need more blood though, take some more and get the tests done quickly for the doctor."

One moved away, and Teyla followed the fall of the soft footsteps out of the room. The other female was moving across the room towards Teyla now. They wanted yet more blood from her. The tube they had set in the back of her hand had been itching intensely for some time and they had had to replace it twice as her body had forced it free. They did not know, but the tube had fallen out again some time ago. The prospect of more needles angered her. Why could they not leave her alone? She was feeling well and the needles were annoying her with their constant demand.

The footsteps moved around her bed and Teyla heard the muttered curse that announced that the nurse had seen the fallen tubing. Clothing moved and the sound of the woman breathing lowered as she crouched down to the floor. Teyla could hear the soft scrape of the woman's hand closing around the tubing.

Teyla was already moving as she opened her eyes. One sharp hit to the back of the woman's head shocked her enough to slump barely conscious to the floor. There had been no noise and Teyla looked round the small room to see that truly there was no one else in the room. She could hear plenty of movement outside though.

She slipped off the bed, delight coursing through her body to be able to stand for the first time in ages. The floor was wonderfully cool under her bare feet and she stretched her back and arms up towards the ceiling. A vent set high up in the wall drew her attention. She glanced back to the doorway. There would not be much time.

She moved across the room very quietly, and with barely a spring to her feet she leapt up onto the top of a chair and reached up for the vent's covering. It was small, but she would easily fit inside and she knew that someone else she knew had done so before. As she reached up to the open vent and easily pulled her weight up and into the small opening, she wondered who it had been who had done this before and why she could not remember their name. She set her weight on her elbows and began moving quickly and efficiently down the tight passage that was her escape.

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TBC


	3. Confrontation

Infection

Chapter Three - Confrontation

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Keller and Carson looked tired, even more than he felt. John was exhausted really, but most of that was from relief. His plan had worked by the looks of it. Teyla was healed, or on the road at least.

"Her white cells are still off, but there are no more protein abnormalities," Keller was muttering with Carson in the lab near the isolation room.

"I think we're definitely looking at recovery here, there are no inflammatory markers either, so I think…"

"Doctors," a female voice interrupted them and John looked round worried for a moment. "I thought you should know that the blue areas of her skin have now reached down to her far elbow."

John saw Carson frown and share a look with Keller.

"That's still a lot faster than with John," Carson said thoughtfully. "The accelerant we put in her serum should all have been exhausted by now."

"I don't think we can simply compare her to Colonel Sheppard's incident, he was infected indirectly, and she already has Wraith DNA. Ellia reacted very differently remember," Keller replied thoughtfully.

"Is this a problem?" John asked worriedly.

Carson glanced at him. "I don't think so, it's just that it may mean that we won't have quite as much time as we did with you. Julia, let's do another full genetic scan and see how the retrovirus is progressing."

"Nurse Simmons is doing so now," she replied as she turned to leave.

"Ask her to take enough for the research lab as well will you," Carson added and she nodded. "Oh, and how far upwards has the blue areas extended now?" The nurse had paused and moved back towards them a few paces.

"Right up her neck to her chin, on both sides" she replied as she drew a line around her own chin to show them how far it had progressed. Teyla really was changing quicker than John had done. It made John a little worried.

"Has she woken again?" He asked the nurse.

"No, Sir. She stirs occasionally," she replied. John frowned at that. When he had been changing, he had felt alert and sharp, not sleepy. In fact, he had been far too hyper, but then he hadn't been near death when he had been infected by the retrovirus. Still, something didn't seem quite right about it.

The nurse left and John turned back to Carson. "Have you given her any of the viral inhibitor?"

"First thing, but she's been asleep since."

"Let's give her some more, just in case," John began.

"Colonel!" A sharp shout from outside stopped the conversation and in a split second John knew he had been right – something wasn't right.

He made it to the doorway to see the guards at the isolation room door were gone. He moved forward to find them inside the room.

"She's gone, Colonel," one marine reported from where he was helping up a nurse. Carson pushed past John heading towards the nurse who was holding the back of her head. John's eyes moved to the empty bed and then to the other marine who was stood on a chair below an open wall vent.

"Crap," John announced to the whole at large as he moved to the marine on the chair. "Anything?"

"No, Sir," the marine reported from where he was peering through the open vent with a flashlight.

John tapped his radio connection open. "Control Room, this is Sheppard. Teyla has escaped from the isolation room through the ventilation system. Can you track her?"

"Standby, Colonel," Chuck replied.

John headed back across the room as he issued more orders over the radio for teams to rally ready. The damn problem was that not much could stop Teyla in this state other than Ronon's stunner. John glanced over to the big guy stood in the doorway, waiting for the call.

"We're not detecting anyone in the ventilation system, Colonel," Chuck replied.

"Okay, keep scanning the city. Find her. She'll be by herself, moving fast," John ordered. "I want every light on full throughout the city, her eyes will be sensitive to it. If any area lowers their lights can you pick it up?"

"Yes in the public areas, but we can't light up the quarters and she could be in one of those," Chuck replied.

"Just light up everything you can, as bright as you can, that might stop her running through the city unchecked," John added. "Major Lorne?"

"Yes, Colonel," came the instant reply.

"We're gonna need those tranquiliser darts after all. Get someone to pick them all up and get up here to the Infirmary and Carson will load them with something that'll work on her." Carson was nodding from John's left.

"Yes, Sir," Lorne replied. "My team's on the way up with the tranqs.""

"Shut down all the transporters and I want every team reporting in and at least one member of each team to have tranquilisers if we have enough. Cover every stairwell and I want everyone in constant visual contact with each other," John added and Lorne signed off.

"Chuck? Anything?" John asked the technician higher up in the tower.

"Still nothing. There are quite a lot of people moving around the city by themselves, but no one stands out."

John bit back a curse. "Okay, keep at it, do everything you can."

"Yes, Sir," Chuck replied.

John turned to Carson. "You got any of the viral inhibitor?"

As he asked, he noticed that Ronon was already heading away across the main Infirmary. He was limping, but he was moving at a fair pace.

"Ronon?" John called after him. "Ronon, she'll be too fast," he added, but didn't add 'for you right now', but he knew Ronon understood what went unsaid.

"I've got this," Ronon replied stubbornly over his shoulder as he lifted his stunner.

"Wait up, Ronon," John called, but the big guy was already out the door and John wasn't going to follow until he had something himself to slow Teyla down.

As Ronon had left, half of Lorne's team had entered, carrying large cases full of the tranquiliser guns and their darts to be loaded. Keller met them halfway across the room, so John followed where Carson had disappeared into the side lab, and found him inside loading vials.

"I'm loading these auto-injectors with the viral inhibitor for you, but only hit her with one. They'll inject on impact, but they will take a few seconds to deliver all the inhibitor. Aim for large muscle groups, the outer thigh is the safest," Carson was saying as he worked.

"How long will they work for?" John asked as he moved to Carson's side.

"I'm not sure, it depends on how far advanced she is. Which turns out to be far further than we realised," the doctor uttered as he set to work on the fourth injector. John could hear the self-recrimination Carson felt, but there wasn't time to focus on that. Time was of the essence. John scooped up the three injectors already filled and waited for the last one.

"If you inject her with one of these, it should bring her to her senses, as you know, so hopefully she won't need anymore than that." The fourth filled, John snatched it up and turned away.

"Make up some more for me, Carson, and send them out to the teams. We'll bring her back."

John didn't hear Carson's reply because he was already hurrying across the room to where the tranq cases were open. Inside there were straps designed to hold the darts. John pulled one free, tested the injectors would fit, and happy they would, he headed for the door. He gave out more orders as he did via the radio and heard that there still was no sign of her. Where was she?

As he stepped out into the corridor, he saw Major Lorne heading towards him.

"Sir," we've got a possible sighting two floors from here," he reported. "I didn't want to tell you over the radio in case she's got one with her."

Lorne turned and John hurried with him down the corridor to where Lt Martins was waiting for Lorne.

"She won't care about radios right now, Major," John replied. "But she cares about something to be running like this."

"Maybe she just didn't like being kept in the isolation room," Lorne suggested as they jogged to the closest staircase. John could see a marine stationed on the floor above, watching down over the stairwell.

When John had been infected he had not been himself, but he had still been motivated by things that still meant something to him. He had broken out of the prison of his quarters when he had learnt that no one was going to go back to the bug planet and he had broken free to sort things himself. It had been confused, almost animal thinking, but he had wanted to be away from people and to get to the Gate. That he had been followed had turned into his next objective, to lose his pursuers. By the end of it, he had been unable to think of much other than to defend himself and escape. What had motivated Teyla to escape and where was she going?

What worried him the most was that someone was going to accidently fire on her, so he yet again issued the order that no one was to shoot at Teyla with live fire unless it was their absolute last resort.

As he took the stairs three at a time, he just wished he could understand what she was thinking.

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The corridor smelt strongly of all manner of products and people, but she ignored the distasteful mix as she inhaled. Someone had seen her two corners back, but they had not followed. The attack would follow soon though, so she had to move quickly.

The corridor was entirely empty and that was just as much as a warning to her as it was useful. Every tiny sound could be heard, carried to her sensitive ears by the empty smooth corridor walls.

She heard people running in the distance ahead, but it was another sensation from behind that made her pause. She felt the presence of sharp focused attention. She pressed herself behind a large water filled pillar and held still. The lights overhead pained her eyes, but the small shadow cast over her by the pillar allowed her eyes a rest and to focus clearly. Through the bubbling water inside the column, she saw the edge of a large shoulder hidden behind a distant corner of the corridor.

Ronon.

The name arrived with his image and predictions about how he would behave. It gave her pause though, as she blinked hard, trying to focus her thoughts onto why it felt wrong to hunt him in turn. He shifted and she caught the slight movement, so small that she had only seen it because she had been watching him. He was strong and possibly might be able to stop her, and it was that thought that powered through her. She must not let him stop her.

The distant sound of boots was louder now, but they were moving slower, more cautiously. She glanced back briefly towards the distant sounds, and then back towards where Ronon hid. She had no time. They were closing in on her and would be upon her in no time. Foolish of them, but she would deal with them.

She looked up at the pillar towering over her and reached up, grasping hold of a tiny ledge and she pulled herself up. Her hands gripped the surface easily and her bare feet against the pillar assisted her higher. She climbed around the transparent water sections as best she could to hide her ascent from Ronon. Reaching the top of the column, where it met the high ceiling, she pressed her back into that space, one arm against the ceiling and other against the column, just as below the boot steps approached.

She inhaled deeply and she could smell the weapons upon them, the grease and cleaning fluids used to keep the weapons working. She held entirely still, the natural shadow of the pillar meeting the high ceiling affording her enough shadow to hide for now.

The boots moved closer, and she could hear their clothing moving. They kept quiet, but they might as well have been talking, for she could sense them through their scents and taste in the air, and the sounds of their boots and clothing.

Ronon moved down the corridor towards them, and she could hear the sound of his hair moving against his shoulders, the jangling of the Wraith bone necklace around his neck, and the faintest creak of the strapping around his weak knee. He was approaching from the other direction, thinking they had her contained.

The boots finally came into view and the males walking in them. Their weapons were lifted and they were moving cautiously. She saw them pause as they no doubt saw Ronon ahead. She sprang.

She landed heavily on one of them, knocking him down solidly under her and she heard his skull thud against the floor, but she had already spun and shoved another violently away against a wall and turned in behind the last. So, when Ronon's stunner blasts reverberated down the corridor it engulfed the last male she held before her. She pulled back in time as the blast of energy hit, but she dropped to the floor with him, using him still as a shield from the enemy rushing towards her. She lay still, under the male, but slid her hand down to the weapon he had dropped, and held it ready.

Ronon's shadow appeared over her, but he held back. She threw the weapon at him. It hit him square and the shot he had triggered went off into the wall, but it was all she needed. She leapt at him, her anger hot and bright at his behaviour.

She landed on him, her hands at his face. He struggled against her, but she had hit against him hard enough to knock him backwards. A memory, or perhaps the way he turned as they fell, drew her attention to his side and she pushed all her weight down onto that side of his body as they both hit the floor. His breath was forced from his body and he grunted out in pain at the impact to his past injury. Somewhere deep inside she reacted to that sound of pain, but it was covered by her need to stop this man. She struck out at his hand that still held his weapon, his grip tight despite his pain and the speed of their fight. She pulled one of his fingers out of place to free the weapon, hearing it pop, and once the weapon was in her hand she threw it away. She heard it impact a wall far down the corridor and someone shout out in alarm. More were on the way.

The male under her struck out at her with his free hand, and got a good grip of her arm, but she hissed down at him and struck down at his cheek. He dropped still, his hands falling from her.

She rose up over him, the victory in battle pouring through her, and she looked down the corridor to see more dark clothes moving towards her. The bright light dulled the details, but they were still far enough away from her.

She turned and ran on, ready for more males to try to impede her further.

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John dropped down by Ronon's side and worriedly felt for a pulse, but it was there strong and true. He had been knocked out, which John had seen himself, but they had been too far away to stop her, and then she had been gone. She was damn quick. Too quick.

"Roberts has a head injury," Lt Martins reported from the other fallen. "Mitchell and Donovan are out."

"Okay, Martins stay with them. Lorne, we'll keep after her," John ordered and he and Lorne carried on down the corridor. He had already ordered this section cleared, but most of the rooms were quarters and now he suspected he knew where Teyla was headed.

There was a commotion up ahead and a hasty report via the radio. John and Lorne turned the corner to find two marines on the asses, one out cold and the other looking like he was sporting some broken ribs. John called in a medic and kept on with Lorne. If he was right, then she would be stopping around the next bend anyway.

They moved cautiously around the next corner, around a water-filled pillar, but all was quiet. The doors to Teyla's quarters were closed, but that didn't mean she hadn't gone inside already. John gave Lorne his orders with hand gestures, knowing full well that any conversation might be overhead by her sensitive ears. Lorne nodded and together they made their way to the closed door. Lorne had acquired Ronon's stunner, they just had to hope that it hadn't been damaged too much by that violent throw. John reached to the strap of injectors around his left thigh, and pulled one free, holding it in his hand like a knife, ready to strike. They counted together and Lorne waved his hand over the door sensor.

The doors parted to a dark room beyond, and Lorne immediately fired the stunner into the darkness. The blast of stunner fire lit up the room enough for John to see her across the room. Lorne fired again towards her, but she had already moved. John swore to himself as he moved in behind Lorne and he waved his hand over the light sensor near by. The lights flared up as Lorne fired again, but their vision was partially blinded by the sudden brightness from the darkness. Her hissed breath was their warning and John turned in time to see her descending on Lorne.

The stunner fired again, but she had already deflected Lorne enough for it to blast into the wall harmlessly. Lorne fell backwards against John as Teyla's weight fell on him. John managed to get away enough to swing out at Teyla with the inhibitor, but she was already moving and she pushed at him hard, knocking him back from her and Lorne.

His back hit a thick carpet across the floor and his breath was knocked out of his lungs. He heard the doors of her quarters slide shut and Lorne grunt and there was some scrabbling. He drew in a clean breath, filled with the taste of Athosian incense, and his head cleared in time to hear the stunner go off again. He looked up to see Teyla and Lorne locked in a wrestling match over the stunner. Teyla had a good grip of Lorne's wrist, to the point of breaking it.

"Teyla!" John shouted to distract her as he clambered back up from the carpet.

Her attention didn't waver though and with a twist from her hand, Lorne fired the stunner again, but she had the butt of the weapon turned and the blast engulfed Lorne. She let go as he grunted with the impact and he dropped unconscious to the floor.

John paused in the sudden silence as she looked towards him from the fallen Lorne.

John lifted his hands out, showing her his empty palms.

"Teyla, it's just me," he told her as calmly as he could with the adrenaline pumping through his body. He remembered, vaguely, that he had been able to recognise people when he had been part bug, and he had to bet on that with her now.

She moved to her right and hit her hand against the controls to the lights and the room was plunged back into darkness, though really it was late afternoon outside, so he could actually see more than he had expected.

He held still, letting his eyes adjust to the gloom, knowing full wellfs that she would be able to make out every detail of the room. He kept his hands outwards, trying to appear unthreatening.

His breathing seemed loud to his ears, but he knew she would be able to hear him breathe like he was stood next to her. As his eyes adjusted further, he could see her more clearly and he watched as she moved backwards, her attention breaking away down to the empty cot to her right. He had been right; she had come here looking for Torren. In her instinctual state, she had known she had a kid and had wanted to get to him.

"Torren's safe, Teyla. Remember? He's with your people," he told her calmly.

She turned further towards the cot, her hand lingering over Torren's blankets. She tilted her head as if she were listening to something, or maybe trying to understand what was happening.

John moved forward a step. "You sent him to your people, remember? You sent him there to protect him." He made another cautious step forward. She didn't seem inclined to attack him, but that might just be because she was distracted thinking about Torren right now.

"How about we head back to the Infirmary? You can sit anywhere you want in there, near the door, wherever, and Carson'll make you feel more like yourself. Then we can go and visit Torren," he tried.

He had dropped the inhibitor injector somewhere and as he moved, and her attention was on the cot, he glanced down towards the floor. The faint afternoon light that reached into the room glowed around the edges of the curtain over her single large window across the room, and the light glinted off the injector a metre to his right towards the door. As he stepped forward again, he moved slightly in that direction.

She angled her head and looked back towards him. All of her jaw was blue now, with long fingers of blue stretching up her chin to her lips and it had spread up around her hairline and along her eyebrows. The glint of the afternoon light off her alien eyes was slightly eerie and he paused as they focused intently on him.

She stood tall and proud by the cot, her eyes suspicious of him, but she hadn't moved. He stayed still as well, his hands still out to his sides, palms towards her.

She had changed clothes he realised now. To his far right he could see the doors of the cupboards and wardrobe all stood open, and clothes were scattered around the floor in front of them. She hadn't wanted to stay in the bright white scrubs from the Infirmary, and instead she was now dressed in a dark sleeveless top and one of her panelled skirts from sparring. The dark clothes only made her look more menacing. If she could understand that she needed to change her clothes, then she had to understand something of what was going on, didn't she?

"Teyla, you want to see Torren again, don't you?" He asked her quietly, his last ditch attempt to reach her, because if Torren didn't get through to her nothing would.

His radio abruptly burst to life in his ear, radio silence broken because the others were worried about him. They were also right outside in the corridor. John knew she had heard what was said, though how much she had understood he couldn't be sure, but she turned her head to look at the closed door to John's right.

The injector was between him and the door, but he had three more strapped to his thigh, but she would easily see if he made a move to pull free one of those. They were strapped in tightly as well, since the darts the straps had been designed to hold were slightly narrower than the injectors. It would take longer to pull one free right now. He glanced down to the floor to the left, seeking out where Ronon's stunner had fallen, but he couldn't see it anywhere. Perhaps it was trapped under Lorne's stunned body.

He glanced back to her, to see her eyes on the door still. She would likely go out there now, take down anyone in her way, and if none of them got in a lucky tranq shot, then she would be off loose in the city again. He doubted he would be able to guess where she would go next. He needed to keep her in here. If he could pull out one of the door crystals he could lock her in here, but she would know which one to put back, unless…

He kept his head turned towards her, but looked at the door out the corner of his eye. She would take his movement as a threat and likely knock him out or something, but if he locked her in here, then they would have her isolated. He moved before he changed his mind.

It all happened so fast, his senses lagging behind his actions as he knocked the crystal cover free and gripped two of the door crystals inside. Her snarl had been loud and had echoed in his ear as her hands landed on his shoulder. He pulled the crystals with all his force assisted by her unintentionally as she pulled him away, turning him, and his back was slammed against the now thoroughly locked door. The crystals fell to the floor at his feet as he hit the door, but he reached up to his radio, jabbing at it to open the link.

"I've got her locked in her quarters," he shouted into the link, but the last word was cut short as her hand slid up around his throat, pushing him up further up against the door and her other hands grasped at his radio pulling it from his ear.

He was lucky his ear was still in place at that fast grab, as he had felt the claws she had developed brush against his skin. He heard the radio crunch in her hand as she squeezed it and threw it away with distaste, then her hand wrapped around his left forearm in an instant and the back of his arm hit the door as well.

He held still, his free hand around hers at his throat, and he had a flashback to when he had done this very same thing to a couple of people when he had been in Teyla's position. He remembered the indifference he had felt for them, and the annoyance that they had been in his way. He stared down at Teyla's altered eyes and blue skin, and he held very still.

She bared her teeth at him as her grip tightened a fraction around his neck, but he didn't fight her. She stared up at him, her eyes boring into him with a predator's sharpness.

"Teyla," he said, and despite her hold on him, he could breathe and speak easily enough. It was a warning hold, restraining him only for now.

"We want to help you," he said. "Think of Torren."

But, there was no change to her expression at the mention of Torren and John feared she really couldn't understand what he was saying anymore. He remembered that sense of disassociation from words and people.

He needed to inject her with the inhibitor. If he could do that, she would come to her senses and they could get her to the Infirmary. Except the injectors were on his thigh, the side his arm was pinned, or there was still the one on floor somewhere. He wasn't in a position to reach any of them yet.

Her gaze moved from him to the doors behind him and he guessed she could hear the teams out in the corridor. They would have the doors surrounded now, but in trapping her in, he had also locked the door so the others couldn't get in right away. He had to wonder if this was why she held him against the door still, to use him as a shield if they opened.

She let go of him then, and he sagged against the door, his hand to his throat. She stepped back from him, turning to look around her quarters. John leant forward slightly to stretch out his aching back, only to see that the fallen inhibitor he had dropped earlier had been kicked closer than before. He reached for it as Teyla moved away from him, likely looking for another way out of the room. John picked up the injector and stepped after her, lifting the vial to inject her in the side of her leg, but she had heard him and she turned. She moved like lightening, her hand gripping the front of his jacket and he was thrown round and down to the floor, landing yet again on the same bruises on his back.

He grunted out his breath as her weight landed on top of him and, once again, her hand was around his throat. He realised that the injector was gone from his hand, though she had moved too fast for him to process when he had dropped it, or had she taken it from him? All that mattered now though, was the fact that she was kneeling partly on his chest and her clawed hand was around his throat, much tighter this time. He drew in a shallow breath with her weight on him and groaned with it. He coughed, the scent of incense strong around him again, as he struggled to breathe. He pushed one hand against her knee, but she gripped his wrist and the floor hit the back of his arm. She had him pinned again and he could barely breathe.

Then her weight lifted slightly and he drew in a proper breath with relief, only to see her leaning down over him, the afternoon light shining off what looked like oddly sharp canine teeth from this angle. He looked up from her teeth to her eyes, which were boring down into him with what looked very much like… He realised then, at that moment, what had gone wrong here, and why she had reacted so differently. It also worried him, and the realisation was quickly followed by confirmation, as a pressure arrived in his head, a very familiar and disturbing pressure.

They hadn't just turned her into a part bug, they had turned her into a Queen.

And it seemed that even Queen Teyla, like all Wraith Queens, liked to take a moment to enjoy her prey.

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TBC


	4. Descent

Infection

Chapter 4 - Descent

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She could sense his strength, feel it coursing through his veins, through his entire body beneath hers. She drew in the scent of him, the strength of his mind, and the resistance to her pressure.

He had intended to trap her, had attacked her and that angered her though. She tightened her hand around his neck a little further, feeling the pulse of his life blood surging faster under her fingers.

He was afraid of her, but also she knew him. He had attacked her, but she knew that he was not a threat to her. She understood this somehow, felt it profoundly now. The tone of his voice had been interesting, familiar, and tempting. Yes, she knew him, but the details of that knowing felt far away, leaving only the remembered images and the feelings attached to them.

His scent was powerfully familiar as she leant down over him some more. It made her lips tingle and her own blood move faster.

Yes, she knew him. The fleeting sensations and feelings from her memories filled in all she needed to know of him.

He had attacked her though, and that was wrong of him, not to be permitted.

She stared down at his nervous, watchful expression and she pressed her mind against his further, seeking the connection she felt for him. He did not respond the way she expected, the way she wished.

That could not be permitted either.

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Ronon woke abruptly, the pain and anger immediate.

The pain in his side, that had been improving so quickly, was back with a vengeance, but it was now joined by a throbbing ache in his left cheekbone. That pulled back all the memories and he felt his anger glow brighter. He had underestimated her, and he should have known better than that. He sparred with her all the time, knew her skills, and he should have known that in her current state she would only become more dangerous.

His anger at himself grew even stronger when he couldn't find his gun.

"Major Lorne took it, they've gone on after Teyla," Lt Martins reported from where he was crouched over the others. Ronon took off in the direction Martins had indicated, ignoring the pain lacing through his side and up through his knee.

"You need a radio," Martins shouted after him, but he ignored it.

He was still dressed in the clothes from the Infirmary, as was Teyla, which had been a mistake. She must have seen him coming miles away when he was dressed in bright white. He cursed himself again.

"They've cornered her," Martins suddenly shouted from far behind. "Sheppard's locked in with her, in her quarters."

Ronon headed off at full run. There was no way he was going to let her down again, and especially not when Sheppard was trapped in with her.

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The pressure increased in his head, but it wasn't quite the same as with a Wraith Queen, not painful as much as uncomfortable, but he still fought against it, shutting his mind tightly against the pressure.

She held him down securely still, one of her knees pressing on the middle of his chest, her other knee pinning down his left arm. His other arm was pinned down by her strong grip around his wrist, he didn't have much wriggle room, and even if he did, he didn't think he could use it for anything useful right now. So, for now, he held still, hoping the fact that she hadn't properly hurt him yet meant something.

She tilted her head down at him, her teeth appearing again, accompanied by a loud out breath that was somewhere between a sigh and a hiss. He held still, and, oddly, the pressure in his head lessened. Her hand loosened from around his throat, her fingers sliding down his neck to the collar of his jacket.

Her fingers curled under the neckline of his jacket and his shirt beneath, her claws grazing against his skin as she lifted the material up from his chest slightly. Her fingers, as was all of her in contact with him, were warm, noticeably so and, unexpectedly in such a moment, he reacted to her new touch in an entirely new way.

He hadn't ever been one to find pleasure from being restrained or from anything that explored the boundary of fear or pain, but suddenly he found himself very aware that this was Teyla holding him down beneath her. He studiously worked to ignore the sudden sexual thoughts that were forming in his mind, and that some of his blood was heading south, as she pulled on his top, as if she was going to pull him up to her by his collar. He heard his shirt tear against her claws, two buttons popping away off his jacket, and suddenly he wondered if she had heard those forbidden fantasies that he had just been entertaining.

He felt the air against the right side of his upper chest and suddenly, in a shockingly fast move, she bent over him and set her teeth to his skin.

It wasn't a playful bite.

He felt her teeth break through his skin and the pain blossomed so sharply he lost his breath.

For a horrible moment, he remembered the remains of those left dead up on that Wraith Hive. The infected Wraith had tried to eat them alive, and suddenly he feared that the retrovirus hadn't cured the infection after all, and that now Teyla was going to eat him alive! The thought was as shocking as the pain, but then her teeth released him, leaving the bite shallow, and the pain eased slightly.

He dropped his head and shoulders back down to the floor, not realising he had lifted them in resistance to her pressure. He clenched his teeth at the swear words he wanted to curse out, nervous that such obvious aggression on his part might risk upsetting her.

She pressed over him again, her mouth back over his chest, and his entire body tensed for the next bite. He couldn't believe this was happening, too fast, too horrific to be true!

The next bite didn't arrive though. Instead, he felt the wet softness of her tongue lick over the bite wound she had just given him. He held still, still fearful, but her tongue moved again, working over the wound, making it burn more with the pressure, but also soothing it slightly. He could felt the exact pressure of her tongue, working her wet salvia over the teeth marks, and with one last lick, she rose up over him. Her weight over his chest and arms lifted abruptly as she stood up from him, and she moved away across the room.

He lay still, the shock lingering, and his breathing fast and loud. She had bitten him and then walked away from him with complete indifference. He wasn't sure if he was insulted by that as much as he was still shocked by the bite. Then he realised something far more important.

With that bite, she had just infected him with the retrovirus.

Crap!

He sat up, uncaring now at how she might react to him moving around. He looked down at his upper chest as best he could, but he had to tilt his head sharply to see the wound. She had bitten a shallow bite into the top of his pec, just under his collarbone. He could see all the individual teeth marks! They all glistened with her infected salvia and his blood. He pressed his torn shirt against the wound, dabbing at it, but then what was the point? It would heal up in an hour. Then he was going to turn into a damn bug again! Damn it!

He looked across the room towards her. Had she done it on purpose? Had she known she was infecting him with the bite or was it some animal thing? Okay, that was leading back into those forbidden thought areas again. He steered his thoughts away from the now passed lingering arousal.

Maybe she had done it so that he would unlock the door so that he could be treated, and then she would be free to escape. If so, that was a pretty advanced plan for her right now in such a state. He looked back down at his wound and considered it. If he got out of here now he could get treated pretty quick, but what if they only had enough stem cell stuff to treat Teyla? He had to get her treated first since he had more time than her, and if the worse came to the worst he might be the only one strong enough to capture her.

The sound of smashing glass snapped him from his worried, calculating thoughts and he shot up to his feet to see that Teyla had thrown something through the large window across the room. She was going to climb up, or down, the tower!

"Teyla, wait," John shouted over the sudden forceful breeze blowing into the room as he hurried towards her. "It's too dangerous and it's too bright out there for you still."

She turned and hissed at him as her response and he felt the pressure in his head for a moment. Clearly, she hadn't bitten him to make him open the door after all, for she had found another way out.

She picked up a chair and smashed it into the last pieces of glass that blocked her way out of the window. John moved closer, peering around her to the darkening afternoon outside.

"Teyla, it's too dangerous," he protested to her as she stepped into the window frame and reached for a handhold outside. "Teyla!" He shouted ineffectually as she swung herself out into the late afternoon light.

He moved forward through the scattered glass and looked out, freaked out by the déjà vu from having done this himself before, but she wasn't headed up like he had, instead she was moving down the outside of the tower. She was making short work of it as well, much faster than he had climbed up it, but then he decided it was probably easier going down than up. Besides, she had the bug powers on her side.

"You know, you don't have to do _everything_ I've done already," he shouted down at her with frustration.

He glanced back to the locked door across the room and then back out down to her. She was already two floors down. By the time he got the door open, she could be out of sight. He knew what he needed to do.

Muttering, his bite wound burning, he reached out for a handhold of his own. Why was life so complicated?

He had forgotten how cold it was outside the tower this far up, exposed to the winds that blasted around the central tower all the time. Living inside, behind strong windows, you forgot how high up you were and how cold the wind was. He remembered now how the cold had sapped his strength last time, almost as much as the exertion, and that time he had had the sun on him. Now the sun was setting, and on the horizon the other side of the tower. It seemed the winds were stronger this side though. How helpful!

Muttering about that, and about the crazy turns of his life, he made his way down the protruding vents, ledges, and window frames of the tower as fast as he could. As he had to keep looking down to find safe purchase for his boots, he saw that Teyla remained a good two floors below him.

As he struggled to lower himself from the tiny ledge of a panel, he wondered if she was planning to climb all the way down, because he was damn sure he wasn't going to be able to do that. It had been stupid to follow her, he now realised, in fact he had to wonder why he was. He had left Ronon's stunner up there as well! He should climb inside the next window he found and get help. They could track her down the outside of the tower, though presumably she would head inside if she saw that he had disappeared above her, that was if she was even aware that he was climbing after her. Actually, she might not take it well, now he thought about it.

Muttering at how stupid he was growing as he got older, John continued down the tower, down another three more floors by his counting, but there were no windows to tempt him inside yet.

Lower down the Central Tower than last time, the other surrounding towers were so much closer. As he reached down with one foot for the next ledge, he peered over his shoulder, into the chilling breeze, to see the colours of sunset glow along the edges of the two closest towers. At another time, he might have been able to admire the view, but right now, right here, he just saw the open air and the fact that he was still so far above the ground. He turned his attention back to getting his boot wedged in and ignoring the long drop below the ledges. Climbing up the tower had been far easier than this. Why the hell was he doing this?

He slid his body down to rest his weight on the ledge, keeping a tight hold of the square panel he was pressed to with his cold numbing hands. He paused like that for a minute, the wind dancing through his short hair, chilling his scalp. He glanced down again, and realised that he couldn't see Teyla below any more. He craned his neck to see lower, almost losing his balance on the ledge and he quickly pressed his front back against the tower. Yes, he was definitely getting stupid. But, he was committed to this now, and at least she was inside now, for surely he would have heard or seen her fall if she had. That thought worried him and he glanced down again as carefully as he could, only to see that there was finally a balcony, down about where he had last seen her, set into the side of the tower. She had probably already gotten inside; he was losing her. He set back to climbing down, going as quickly as he could risk it.

As he moved down faster, he strained to hear for breaking glass or any shots fired from below, but the wind was too loud against his ears. He hands were almost numb with the cold now and his ears were burning with it. He was going to have a killer of a headache after this, if he survived the last floor down to the balcony, but then if he did the retrovirus would likely cure a headache for him. A plus side after all.

He found his thoughts amusing and sniggered out into the wind. Okay, now he was going crazy as well as stupid. It was the adrenaline probably, and maybe the exhaustion threatening to overpower his cold shaking fingers with which he clung to the tower's minimal handholds. He had already been bruised and beaten in the Hive's crash, and now here he was risking his life in a truly foolish way.

He was almost to the balcony, reaching down with one boot to set his weight into the it's railing, when his strength finally wavered, his fingers too cold to hold on and he lost his grip with his right hand. He dug his left fingers in deep, feeling pain shoot down one of them into his wrist, and he tried to support more of his weight on the railing below, but it was set further into the tower than his handholds and the angle threatened to tilt his weight backwards. He struggled to alter his foot, but his boot slipped. He felt his weight slipping away, his boot sliding across the narrow railing and tightened his one handed grip all in the split second that followed. He was still going to fall.

A hand caught around his calf and another gripped at his belt, steadying him abruptly. He took the moment, grabbing for purchase with his right hand again, finding the edge of the decorative panel with his shaky fingers, and he pressed himself back against the secure strength of the tower's wall. He let out a long breath as his heart pounded away. That had been too close.

He wasn't out of the woods yet though, and he didn't want to risk moving to look down at the balcony, so he set more of his weight on the railing, the strong supportive hands assisting him. Thank God they had found him in time. He adjusted his hold on the tower's panel and got his weight above the railing enough to get himself down safely now.

The hands at his waist and calf disappeared. Thrown off by the sudden, surprising loss of support, he almost lost his grip and as his weight wavering he threw himself down towards the balcony's railing.

His leg brushed over the inner edge of the railing, and he tumbled down towards the welcome, yet hard, floor of the balcony. He twisted as he fell, turning instinctively to protect himself, and he landed on his right side, his shoulder and hip taking most of the impact.

The pain lanced up through his shoulder, sharp and blinding for a second, and he cursed loudly as he drew in a breath of warmer air.

As he blinked through the lessening pain, though relieved at the feeling of the solid floor under him, he was abruptly angry with whoever it was who had almost made him fall by stupidly assuming he had been okay long before he had gotten to safety. He looked up from the faintly green coloured marble-like balcony floor, to see dark fabric panels moving away from him. Teyla. She had been the one who had stopped him from falling.

He sat up in confusion, his hip complaining along with his shoulder. She was moving away across the balcony towards the bank of glass windows and the one closed glass doorway. As she stepped forward, her back leg appeared through the panels of her sparring skirt. Her legs were still golden in colour, of what he could see, and he could see more than normal from this angle. He hadn't sparred with her for years, but he hadn't forgotten how good she looked in her sparring gear. He realised then how significant it was that she had chosen those clothes to wear; clothes she normally wore to fight. She wasn't in attack mode now though.

Had she waited for him to climb down after her? Had she worried about him, even in her current state? That gave John a flash of hope. She had cared enough to make sure he hadn't fallen.

Of course, there was the possibility that she had gotten him down on the balcony so that she could deal with him there, but that didn't really make sense, and she had her back to him now, as if he didn't really matter all that much.

She moved along the wall of windows looking through them to the wide corridor beyond. John wondered how far way help was, because they should have been tracking his and Teyla's descent down the tower with the scanners. There would be a team around somewhere. This was an opportunity.

He shifted up onto one knee, making his movements appear innocent enough, but as he brushed dust from his pant leg, he was actually looking over the three injectors of inhibitor he had left. They looked okay, as he had fallen on his other side. He glanced up towards Teyla again.

The windows reflected her image back, and he could see the yellow of her eyes as she tilted her head. She would see him make any abrupt movement behind her and risking a fight with her here was especially dangerous – she could throw him off the balcony, even by accident, with her superior strength. He needed to get in close to use the inhibitor, stay near the windows as her head cleared.

He rose slowly, and she looked back at him sharply. He froze in place, his hands relaxed 'innocently' down by his sides. The blue covered more of her face, her cheekbones and jaw now shiny blue, but unlike how he had been, there were no spines protruding from her skin. Her eyes were the same as his had been though –dark slit pupils that fixed on him with a sharp, but oddly indifferent, focus.

She looked away again, and as she looked back through the glass, he noticed that the skin at the back of her neck was two shades of blue now. Over her spine and stretching outwards was a darker midnight blue colour, extending like tiger stripes around her neck. His gaze lowered to her bare arms, to see the same pattern there. Darker shiny skin ran down from her shoulders to her elbows, contrasting with the slightly lighter blue colour of the rest of her arms, the colour he had turned when he had gone through the same change.

She turned, pulling back one of those strong blue arms, and he realised he had been staring and not taking the moment he should have, but it was too late, because he saw the dark claws curl up into a fist. She turned abruptly back towards the glass, the back of her forearm and fist smashing into the glass door, shattering it apart.

She was through the door even as pieces of glass were still falling, and John had lost another moment to make a move with the inhibitor. She was so fast.

And she was already disappearing from view.

He snapped out of his shock and ran towards the now open doorway, crunching over fallen glass as he ran into the corridor beyond.

It was blissfully warmer inside. He slid to a stop, turning to look both ways down the corridor. There was no sign of any backup, but to the left he saw her turn a corner moving out of view again.

"Where is everybody?" He muttered grumpily as he ran after her. He needed to find a radio, or get to a wall panel through which he could activate the internal com to call in more help.

He got round the corner to find one of the large atriums ahead of him, and Teyla was already moving swiftly down one side. John followed, looking around as he did, desperate for any sign that someone else was around here somewhere. Where was everyone? Though, he had no idea what level he was on now. They had to have climbed down a good ten floors, if not more, so that would have taken them below the main levels into the guest quarter areas and the labs.

Ahead of him, Teyla darted to the railing overlooking the opening to the floors below. She stilled, her blue hands set on the railing as she looked down, her head tilted. John slowed his approach, reaching down to his left thigh, seeking out the edge of an injector vial with his fingers.

She gripped the railing and, in a suddenly move, threw herself over it. John's first reaction was fear for her, and he dashed forward to the railing. She hadn't dropped right down though; in fact, she was clinging to the side of the wall below, Spiderman style. Spiderwoman.

He looked further below her, where the floor waited three levels down. There was no way he was going to jump down there and he didn't have her super powers yet.

She moved and he watched as she leapt down towards the waiting floor below. He watched in worry, but also amazement as she landed easily, perfectly, into a crouch, her bare legs out from her skirt. There were blue streaks down her upper thighs.

She turned to look behind, as if she had heard something, and then she was off, running away and he was losing her. He looked around desperately to spy the staircase that would take him down to her level, but as he ran towards it, he realised what she might be planning. This was a main staircase that ran down a good number of floors now, which meant that she could get to the base of the Central Tower from here. But, there should be someone stationed in the stairwell near this level, one at least, if not more further down.

He reached his level's access to the stairs, and raced down them, looking down through the metal mesh of the steps to see movement on the flights below. She was in the stairwell and probably several more floors below the lower atrium's level already.

He hurried as best he could, taking each flight of stairs in only two jumping steps as he fought to catch up with her.

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TBC


	5. Pursuit

Infection

Chapter Five - Pursuit

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Ronon paced outside the locked doors of Teyla's quarters. His patience was stretched as it was, but watching Zelenka swear repeatedly at the crystal column outside the door was getting on his nerves. His hand itched without the presence of his stunner, the most effective weapon they had to stop Teyla.

"Wait," Rodney's voice shouted over the radio link that Ronon had finally accepted. "We're reading a life sign leaving the room. That doesn't make sense," Rodney muttered.

"McKay?" Ronon demanded into his radio.

There was some furtive talking at the other end of the link, which was too quiet for Ronon to catch, but he still recognised Amelia's voice. Something eased inside him just to think of her up there, she would keep Rodney on track for him.

"She's climbing down the outside of the tower," Rodney announced with shock.

Ronon turned on the spot, looking for the closest door down the corridor.

"Another life sign is following," Rodney added with disbelief.

"Sheppard," Ronon stated without any doubt in his mind as he reached the next door down from Teyla's, hoping it wasn't locked. He waved his hand over the door control and the doors parted, revealing an empty room. He hurried through the unknown person's quarters to the large window. He pressed his forehead against the glass as he looked down the tower as best he could, but the view was too restricted.

"There's a small balcony outside my quarters," someone announced from behind Ronon and he turned to see a Marine moving away from the doorway. Ronon hurried after him, Lt Martins joining him.

Behind them, Zelenka was still muttering at Teyla's door. Beyond that locked door was still another life sign reading, but also Ronon's stunner. He needed it, but he wasn't going to wait for it whilst Teyla got further away, and Sheppard was chasing her. If Ronon could get ahead of her, they could trap her between them.

They reached the Marine's room, and they stepped out onto the narrow balcony, all three of them leaning over the railing to look down the tower below Teyla's windows. And there, moving faster than he expected, Ronon saw Teyla, and Sheppard after her. They were several floors down already, and Teyla looked as if she were moving even faster with each passing minute.

"Sheppard!" Ronon shouted down towards them, but the wind snapped his words back at him. He shouted again louder.

"He can't hear you, the wind's too strong," Martins muttered. "We need to track them down through the tower. Dr McKay, keep us constantly informed on which level they're on."

"Oh, sure, because I was planning to keep you all in the dark," Rodney muttered back over the radio.

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She sensed the air move before she heard the male on the level below. She paused, the echoing sounds from above covering the sounds slightly.

This new male was nervous, the smell of it lingering around him, as he talked into the air.

"No sign yet, the corridor here is empty," he said.

The words were little more than sounds to her, but she understood he was looking for her and that he had not noticed her yet. She moved down faster, slipping from the steps to cling to the metal mesh walls of the stairwell, pressing her form flat against the shadows of the wall.

The clanging sounds from above grew louder as the other male followed her, and finally the male below heard. He stood out further onto the small landing below the level where she waited, his face peering up the flight of steps. She dropped onto him, striking at his face as she did. He dropped unconscious under her, the impact against the back of his head adding to her strike to his cheek, and she landed ready on her feet over him.

There was a doorway here, leading away from the stairs, and she looked down the long narrow space, drawing in the scents of the air.

"Teyla!"

The word caught at her attention with its importance, but she ignored the male following her, for she had spied another male down the length of the corridor before her. He had not seen her, but with the other male shouting to her, it would draw attention. Everything was so bright, hurting her eyes, as she focused on the distant enemy. They could see better in this light she knew, they were tracking her too closely. She needed to move where they would not be able to follow her so closely.

"Teyla!" The other male above shouted again and this time he was considerably closer. She turned and looked upwards through the metal steps to see him, her annoyance flaring at his noise. He would certainly alert others.

She would keep moving down the steps for now, she decided, as she leapt down the next flight, grasping hold of the mesh wall below.

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John jumped down the last few steps to where Thompson lay still. Breathing fast, John reached down and quickly felt for a pulse, finding it strong.

Below Thompson, John saw the movement that was Teyla continuing down the stairs. She was taking each flight in one leap at a time. He stood over Thompson to see another uniform down the long length of the corridor ahead that linked up with the other distant staircase.

"She's this way," John shouted as loud as he could as he made for the next flight down, taking the steps two bounds at a time. He wasn't as quick as Teyla, but as she would have to be more cautious at who might be below, maybe that might slow her again.

"This way," he shouted again, making as much noise as he could as he ran.

He heard shouting from Thompson's level and above him boots clattered.

"Colonel?" A voice shouted.

"This way, she's moving down the stairwell," John shouted back, but he didn't slow down.

The boots followed him and he heard more talking. He realised then that he had missed the chance to pick up Thompson's radio link – that had been stupid of him.

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"She's headed down the southeast staircase, level thirty eight. Sheppard's three levels above her," Rodney reported over the radio at Lt Martins' request. "Wallace's team are moving in from three directions."

"Get the transporter working on this level," Martins ordered.

Ronon altered his course when he heard that, heading towards the corner around which the transporter waited.

"I'm opening them now, and for Wallace and Timmons' team transporting in from the Bay level," Rodney reported and Ronon could hear the rapid tapping of computer keyboard buttons under Rodney's fingers. "Transporters are good to go."

Ronon swiped his hand over the transporter's door controls and they parted to reveal the small space inside. Martins and two Marines had been following him and they all hurried around the corner to join him. Ronon clenched his teeth at the two seconds he had to wait for them to catch up and enter the transporter with him.

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"She's above," a voice shouted from below, and John looked down through the breaks between the stairs to see a flash of light on metal followed by a grunt and sudden scuffle.

"Hold back," John shouted. "Keep your distance, use a tranquiliser!"

The scuffle was already over by the time John had gotten out the order.

"Lt Evans is down," someone shouted, into a radio presumably. "She's heading down to the next level."

John turned the bend in the stairs to see Lt Evans slumped on his side, slumped up against the wall. There was a tranquiliser dart buried into the wall at John's head height as he jumped down the last three steps to the Lieutenant's side. Sergeant Boorman was already moving down the steps below John. Evans groaned slightly.

"Medic's on the way, Lieutenant," John assured the man as he jumped over him and followed Boorman down the stairs.

"Wallace is heading in from the West and Vance from the floor below," Boorman reported to John.

"We need more," John replied as he reached Boorman's back, a burst of annoyance firing through him that the man was now in his way.

"Ronon, Martins, and a load of Marines are incoming," Boorman added.

A shout from below and the both looked down past their moving boots to the landing below. There was a hiss and the sound of someone hitting concrete. More scuffling echoed up the steps, and as John shoved past Boorman he rounded the corner to see Major Wallace on one knee firing a tranq gun down the corridor off the stairwell. He had flushed her away from the stairs, or perhaps it had been Vance, now slumped on the floor, who had achieved it.

"She's headed down the corridor towards the main labs," Wallace reported as he launched himself after Teyla and John followed.

Down the corridor, John could see Teyla running, the long length of the corridor opening up on one side to another large atrium around which the labs were based. John could see the flashes of tranq darts sail through the air towards her across the atrium, but she was too fast, shifting and dipping as she ran.

She reached the end of the corridor where the far wall of the large atrium stood over them and she jumped up towards it, latching onto the wall as if she really were a spider. She didn't climb up though as John had expected, as he had done before, but instead she leapt off towards the far side of the atrium, towards those firing on her.

John ran faster, passing Wallace. "Everyone keep your distance," he shouted as he arrived into the atrium space, so see Teyla shove two of his people down to the ground. She struck down as she did, and John saw a tranq dart had hit her upper left arm, but she was still moving as if it hadn't hit her. Had it been able to pierce that new thicker skin?

Wallace and Boorman arrived behind John and two more darts whistled towards her as she rose up. She ignored them as she ran towards the railing before her and John felt his heart jump again as she threw herself over it into the open air.

He raced towards the railing and saw her below, climbing down one of the columns that protruded up from the atrium floor below like fingers that were supposedly decorative.

"This way," Wallace stated as he raced the way to the flight of steps that led down to the atrium floor at her level. John followed.

"The others are out of the transporter below," Wallace added, his hand against his radio link as they ran down the stairs, but already from below John could hear Ronon shouting a warning.

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"We're here," Martins reported into his radio, as Ronon led the way out of the transporter towards the open airy space ahead of them.

The atrium ahead was full of light, but at this lowest level, the edges of the space were overhung by the floors above, surrounding the atrium's central space. Ronon knew immediately that she would use those shadows to her advantage, because he would. Movement high above drew his attention, and he stepped out from the shadows to see Sheppard and others moving away from the railings above, disappearing from view.

A shape dropped down from a column to the left, landing on a Marine. Beside Ronon, Martins fired to two shots of tranquiliser darts as Teyla crushed the Marine to the atrium floor beneath her.

Ronon rushed towards her a split second after the darts were fired, reaching to hold her still as the effects of the drugs entered her system. However, despite the two darts sticking out from her shoulder, she straightened and her Wraith-like eyes were bright, showing no affects from the tranqs in the least. He altered his approach at that last minute, seeing her strike flying out towards his chin. He ducked aside and struck out at her arm, but she moved swiftly, and the heel of her other palm struck out from under his arm and the hit rattled his skull. The floor hit his back and he tasted blood in his mouth.

"Keep your distance," Sheppard was shouting from close by, his voice filled with frustration, growing louder as he neared.

Ronon shook his head, fighting the urge to pass out again, and to force away the other lingering pains in his body. Her shadow cast over him, and he kicked up at her legs as he reached up to grab her. She batted away his hands though, with bone bruising force, but he had made her lose some balance with his kick. She fell down over him and he took his opportunity to wrap his arms around her, bear hugging her to him until someone could get to them. But, as he got his arms around her, she twisted in his hold and he saw the glint of light off the dart in her hand. The needle was in his shoulder before he could react.

The artificial exhaustion swept over him far too fast. He fought against it, and to keep his hold around her, but everything was growing distant, everything abruptly complicated for him and he felt his arms empty, the air chill, and the darkness claim him.

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"The tranqs aren't working," Martins shouted to John over his shoulder. The Lieutenant was holding his left arm oddly, against his body, which told John that the guy likely had a broken arm.

"We need to hit her in the leg, somewhere she hasn't developed the thick skin yet," John ordered and Martins repeated the order into his radio. "We need Ronon's stunner. Where is it?"

"It's still locked in with Major Lorne in the Teyla's quarters, Dr Zelenka says he'll be through the door in a minute or two, something about the doors being out of place," Martins replied.

"Lorne'll wake up soon, he was only stunned," John informed him.

They were running down the long high hallways that led off the atrium, past closed doors to the smaller rooms that were offices or smaller labs. She was out of view, but she had nowhere else to go now except forward down the hallway.

"I want every door locked," John ordered.

"Already done, Sir," Martins replied and there was definitely a waver of pain in his voice now.

"There's another atrium ahead, where we held that big dinner for General O'Neill that first time he visited," Wallace said from behind, his voice winded from the pace of this chase.

John realised that at some point he had stopped feeling breathless and now felt like he had enough energy to keep running for hours. He glanced down at his jacket front, touching one hand to his chest and he could already feel the difference to his skin around her bite mark. It had started, but he didn't want to look at what was likely to be blue thick skin now. If anyone else knew, they would probably pull him off this hunt and he was likely the only one who could stop her for sure now. Even Ronon had been taken down. Twice. He wasn't going to be happy about that.

"We've got two teams incoming, they'll transport down ahead of her," Boorman added. "We'll trap her there."

"How though?" Martins asked.

John turned his thoughts around that, but noise ahead meant that their time was out again. He pushed some more power into his legs, leaving Wallace and Boorman behind.

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More males were appearing ahead of her, their footfalls and scent announcing their presence long before she saw them. She ran and leapt, gripping onto the wall of the narrow space and she threw herself at them as they appeared into view. They fought against her, more of them than before. She struck out at one, forcing him away, kicked out at the next, but two more had their soft distasteful hands on her and she turned on them.

More were arriving, shouting sounds, and filling everything with loud concussive noise and too many disgusting tastes.

She roared against their treatment of her, and struck out, fighting and clawing, the power pouring through her body with ease.

They would not stop her, would not hold her. She would not allow them to. How dare they!

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The fight was on ahead of John and it was not pretty.

He saw the first blood drawn, as her claws sliced across someone's face, and her heels kicked out as she threw her weight against someone else. John could tell there was desperation in this fight, his people were afraid now, and things could get ugly.

"Step back," he ordered them, but only one heard him and he was already standing back, hand to his mouth, his fingers stained with blood.

Teyla had landed on one man and had her hands on the neck of another who was trying to get a hold of her arms. John reached in, grasping Teyla's wrists, but she twisted, shoving the man in her hold at John, knocking them both away from her. The Marine tumbled down to the floor with John, during which John had a split second view of Wallace and Boorman firing their tranq guns, low this time, at Teyla.

John's shoulder hit the floor, the Marine's weight landing on his middle, but this time there was barely any pain on impact. He rolled the groaning Marine off him as he looked up, to see that only one dart had hit Teyla, in her back, as she had turned and was, yet again, on the run. He could already see that the tranq dart had hit her darker Iratus skin.

Wallace and Boorman tore after her and, after pulling his legs free from under the Marine, John followed, catching up with them in time to see the worse outcome of the plan.

Ahead the doors to a transporter stood open and Teyla was inside. John saw her reaching towards the panel. He poured power into his body, racing down the corridor to reach her in time, but it was too late. The doors slid shut, but his approach had made her look round, and as she did, he saw where her blue fingers jabbed at the panel.

"Damn it!" John shouted as the doors sealed and the flash of light could be heard of the transporter inside. He slid to a halt outside the doors, waving his hand impatiently over the door sensor, and after a beat, the doors opened again. He rushed inside, Wallace and Boorman behind him, and he pressed the panel where she had. The room flooded with light and the doors opened.

Her hands reached in and Boorman was yanked out into the corridor.

Wallace fired his tranq gun instantly. Boorman hit the far corridor wall, taking most of the impact at his shoulder, his cry of pain echoing around the tight corridor space. John was already out of the transporter into the corridor as the cry rang out, but he was shocked to find Teyla right beside him. Her hand pressed against his chest, pushing him vaguely aside as she reached back in through the transporter's doors to grab the barrel of Wallace's tranq gun. Wallace's next hurriedly loaded dart shot wide and John heard Boorman grunt behind them.

It all happened in a split second, and John was still stumbling from her, relatively gentle, shove. He righted himself, turning back towards the action, his hand dropping to the injections strapped to his thigh. He pulled one free as he stepped back towards Teyla.

She wrestled Wallace's tranq gun from his grip just as John was swinging the business end of the injector down towards her outer thigh. She saw it coming though. She struck round to intercept his arm, the impact of her forearm against his was shocking, but not as much as the fact that his arm hadn't broken from it. The injector fell from his grasp though and he cried out in frustration at that and the pain. Her other hand slashed out, so quick he barely more than a blur, but instead of a punch, her open palm smacked across his cheek. It may have been a far lighter strike than he had expected, but her slap still made him stumble back.

He turned back towards her, strange feelings rising up in response to the slap, and he shouted at her, or maybe he had growled at her, he wasn't sure. She glared back at him, her lips parted, something new to her expression that suddenly caused within him a rush of something far different from frustration or worry for her. The arousal was abrupt and very familiar.

Then she was turning and running away again.

Wallace groaned from inside the open doors of the transporter and John felt as if he was snapped out of a trance at the sound. He looked away from Teyla's retreating back, to the fallen injector at his feet. He was breathing was fast, his veins pounding, his head full of lustful bug memories from years ago.

"You hurt?" He asked Wallace as he bent down and picked up the fallen vial. He turned it in his hand to see that there was no sigh of a crack in it, nothing leaking out.

"Just my ego," Wallace replied, his hand to the side of his head, as he got up from the far corner of the transporter. "What did I miss?"

"You tranq'ed Boorman," John told him with a touch of amusement as he moved forward. "Come on, we can't lose her."

"Sure," Wallace replied as he stumbling after John, until his boots were under him properly. John listened as Wallace reported in what had happened, asking for someone to pick up Boorman with a certain amount of regret in his voice.

John hurried ahead. He had been glad for the two-second breather, to centre himself from the intense moment with Teyla, but now he was worried that they might have lost her in lagging behind.

He paused at a junction of three corridors and looked each way, trying to find some hint as to which way she would have gone.

"Which way?" John demanded of Wallace.

"Which way is she?" Wallace asked into his radio and he waited for the reply.

John tried to gather his thoughts. Where were they in the city anyway? He tried to remember the detail of the transporter panel. Towards the end of the North pier if he was right, which meant that the only help that could get to them would have to be sent in from the Central Tower on foot, or via the transporters, but clearly she was still more lucid than he had expected so the transporters would be a risk now.

"She's headed this way," Wallace reported abruptly, interrupting John's thoughts and the man pushed past. The action annoyed John and he pushed back in front.

"I want all the transporters shut down," he ordered. "We'll keep on her tail, but she's taken out a good chuck of our force, so we need to back off a bit."

"Run her down kind of thing?" Wallace asked.

"Until we can get Ronon's stunner out here, yes."

"You want my radio link?" Wallace asked as they hurried on down the corridor, following Rodney's directions over the radio.

"You keep it," John replied, yet again wishing he had thought to pick up someone else's earpiece. He could go back for Boorman's, but that would waste time. Besides, the idea of a radio around his ear right now…it bothered him. In fact, he realised that a lot was bothering him. Wallace was running too close to him, getting in his way at times as the Major pointed out which direction from the radio. John resisted the urge to tell him to back off a bit.

He had missed something as well. He should have accepted the radio, he should be giving orders over it right now.

He looked down at the inhibitor injector in his hand. He needed to take one himself. He was aware that his thoughts were getting less focused on details and that he wasn't planning ahead anymore. His thoughts were muddled with little beyond keeping up with Teyla.

He pulled back, allowing Wallace to move ahead as they reached another junction.

"She's headed up this stairwell," Wallace reported, leading the way up, unaware of John's circling thoughts.

John followed, but held back for a beat, during which he jabbed the injector against his outer thigh. He felt the needle dig in through his skin and he almost withdrew it at the sensation, but he needed this. He held it tight to his thigh, feeling it deep in the muscle and the pressure of the inhibitor being injected.

He pulled the needle free after a beat and dropped it aside as he continued on after Wallace.

"This way," Wallace said from the landing above as he headed off down a corridor. "Where is she going?"

As John reached the same level, catching up with the Major, he felt his head clearing abruptly.

"I need the radio," John asked.

Wallace looked over his shoulder with surprise, but willingly handed over his earpiece. John slid it around his ear.

"Rodney?"

"About time, what's happening out there?" Rodney's familiar worried voice responded.

"We need to corner her somewhere, but she's too fast right now. I don't want any transporters working."

"Lightworth's team and two more are headed out on foot from the tower, but they're spread thin," Rodney reported.

"Zelenka got into Teyla's quarters yet?" John asked.

"Yes, _finally_," Rodney replied in such a way that told John that Zelenka was likely stood right next to him. There were some quiet grumbling words near Rodney. "Yes, yes, you did the best you could," Rodney told Zelenka condescendingly.

"Colonel Sheppard?" Woolsey's voice cut in. John remembered then that he should have included the city's leader much earlier in this. Yet again another sign that he hadn't been thinking at all clearly. But the inhibitor had cleared his head now.

"I'm here," John replied.

"Doctors Beckett and Keller are concerned that Teyla's transformation is moving along a lot faster than yours did before. They are predicting from their last tests on her before she broke out of the Infirmary, that they need to treat her within twelve hours or the changes to her genetic structure may be irreversible."

"I understand," John replied. In fact it was more time than he had hoped, but with the run around she was giving them, it might not be time enough. She might become even stronger and faster with the advancement of the retrovirus. "Is the Daedalus out of range still?"

"Yes, they're still days away and by then it'll be far too late for it to matter," Woolsey replied, a tad tactlessly in John's opinion and he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself responding with the angry reply he wanted to give.

"Rodney?" John asked to distract from Woolsey for a minute. "Which way is she headed now? I need someone to bring me out a life signs detector."

"The teams on their way have them," Rodney replied. "And she's currently moving along the floor above your current position, heading away from the main city."

John glanced up at the next floor up. He hated not knowing where she was, if he had a life signs detector he could easily follow her. "Coordinate another team to the end of the pier, take them out by Jumper, and have them move in towards us."

"On it," Chuck's voice announced over the link.

The loud noise of their voices was starting to grate on John's eardrum, but he ignored the irritation.

He and Wallace had reached the next level up.

"Wait," Rodney said. "She's stopped. About a hundred yards ahead of your position."

"On this level right?" John whispered back.

"Yes," Rodney replied.

"Okay, we're going to maintain radio silence for as long as possible, she has exceptional hearing right now. I want you to report to me where she is, really quietly, Rodney, and only when she moves, okay?"

"Okay," Rodney replied in a quiet voice and John could hear the worry in his voice. Rodney wasn't one to show how much he cared for his friends, but John knew Teyla meant a lot to Rodney, as all the team did.

John and Wallace moved quietly down the now slightly wider corridor, keeping to the walls, creating a wide space between them, that John appreciated right now.

"She's moved into a room to the left, still one hundred metres down the corridor from you," Rodney whispered.

John moved on, carefully and quietly, his body tensing and releasing with the new power he could feel in his body. His chest felt sensitive though, and he knew that it meant that the blue area of new skin was spreading, but he didn't have the time to look at it. He didn't want to have to deal with that just yet.

"Two doors down from you now," Rodney whispered.

John held up his fist to Wallace, making the Major pause. John held still, thinking. Why was she in that one room? Was she planning a trap? If she was happy to stay in that room, then maybe he should just wait her out. Let the others arrive with Ronon's stunner and go in for her then. He gave Wallace the signal to hold position.

"We're going to hold here," John whispered as quietly as he could into the radio. "If she moves tell me, but we're going to say put. I want Lightworth's team to head towards us when they reach the other end of the building. Quietly," he stressed.

"Okay," Rodney whispered back and John felt a moment of amusement at the whole stage whispering thing. Okay, it wasn't amusing. He was feeling this strange excitement because…the adrenaline, yes that was why. Because of the adrenaline. Not because of the retrovirus. It was too soon after he was infected for it to be affecting him so much. It was just the adrenaline speaking.

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TBC


	6. Awaken

**Note: **Sorry, haven't posted a chapter for a couple of days, been so busy. I'll put up another action filled one tomorrow. Thank you as always for your reviews, it always inspires me that people are enjoying these fics. We need to keep the JT love alive! This chapter is dedicated, as a belated Happy Birthday gift, to Foxy.

Infection

Chapter Six - Awaken

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The room was dark and empty around her.

The air was still as she looked quietly out at the lights of the city below the wide windows before her. The myriad of tiny lights pleased her somehow, yet also felt wrong. They seemed false, unnatural somehow, as the tiny lights sparkled against the encroaching night.

She liked that night was almost here though. The darkness was welcome.

With its presence, she felt more comfortable, yet those many lights, encircling around the dark room concerned her. There was too much light inside the building as well. Too much light in which she had no choice but to run.

She had lost those pursuing her, though knew they would be trailing after her. That angered her. She had to get away from their pursuit. Ideas at that formed in her mind, but they seemed more linked with memories, memories that she could not entirely understand anymore. She knew that she was in a large building, that there were more around it, but that wide dark ill tasting water surrounded all those lights outside. That meant she was trapped.

She could not outpace those after her forever, the horizon always too close. The buildings were filled with endless brightly lit rooms and corridors, all of them open to all her pursuers to find her.

She had fought them off, but there seemed so many more to take the place of those defeated. It angered her to recall their attempts to hold her, to harm her with sharp needles and restraining hands.

Here however, she felt calmer, still in the darkness of this room, enjoying the pinpoint distant sparkles outside the windows. She drew in a deep breath, feeling the relief it brought her to be still.

She pulled her gaze from those sparkles of light outside to the dark long space around her, partially broken up into smaller areas. Places full of deep darkness. She moved across the room, seeking out a dark safe space to pause for longer. As she set her hand on a piece of furniture, the scent of blood rose from under her nails. It was distasteful, from one of her pursuers. She was concerned then that the smell might call in others towards her. She needed to remove the scent. She looked round for something to help her to do so, though she was not sure what.

A door stood across the room, leading into another smaller room and she saw the bowl set against the wall. She moved to it, pushing her hands into it, following a remembered understanding. Water appeared over her hands and the cool feel of it was pleasing. She ran her fingers under it, cleaning the blood out from under her nails until every scent of it was gone. She reached for a strip of material without thinking, wiping her hands on it, and had the strange sensation that the material felt wrong her skin than she had expected it to. She lifted her hands in the darkness, the light from the window casting over her skin.

She was different from those after her. They had wanted to capture her because of this difference. The feeling of anger returned, pushing aside the confusion.

Her pursers' constant following of her, felt like a large dangerous presence stalking her, hounding her, and it angered her further. They would never stop seeking her. She had to find somewhere deep and dark. Yes, somewhere she would be safe and could gather her strength and power. The instinct was already drawing her in.

She moved back into the larger space, moving past the view of sparkling lights outside. The darkness of the room drew deeper at the far end and she sought it out, to a far corner between furniture and shapes that she no longer recognised. She crouched down into that darkness, the clear panel of the window before her. She set her hand against that cool clear panel that separated her from the night air, and it was nicely cool against her palm. She took a deep breath.

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The hallway was empty and dead quiet ahead of them. According to Rodney, she was still in the same room, only having moved across it, but no further. Maybe she really would stay in there until help arrived, as John hoped.

His upper chest itched and he reached up to scratch at it, his hand slipping under the torn edge of his shirt to reach his skin. Thicker than normal skin met his fingers.

Wallace was sat on the other side of the high ceiling corridor from John, so John risked dipping his head and pulling aside the torn neck of his shirt. The bite wound had healed up already, but he could feel its outline still amidst the raised snake-like scales that had already begun to form across that side of his chest. He glanced at Wallace again, but he was too focused ahead to notice. John pulled aside his jacket and shirt a little more. The blue had spread to his inner shoulder and right across his chest.

He didn't remember this happening so fast last time. How long ago had she bitten him? He looked at his watch, only then realising that he hadn't once glanced at it throughout this mess. So he had to go by his internal clock, and since he couldn't see any windows from here, only the bright lights he had ordered be kept on bright across the city, he had no further clue at how long they had been tracking her. It might only have been an hour or two. If she had bitten him an hour or so ago that would be right, but why was his skin turning blue already? What was different from last time? Hadn't Carson said something about speeding up her change? Had that transferred to him as well? She had bitten him in the chest, pretty much over his heart. He wondered if that made any difference. Would it speed up the process if it had gotten into his blood system quicker that way? And maybe the bite mark had introduced more of the retrovirus into his system than last time. She had licked the bite as well, thoroughly.

The memory of that played out, with vivid detail of her over him, her tongue licking over the wound. He could remember the tiny pressures she had swirled around the teeth marks with her tongue. He played the memory again, recalling the feel of her body pressed over his as well, even if it was just her knee and her hands on him. He could feel his breathing increase and his body warming just thinking about it. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about Teyla's mouth on him before, but he rarely allowed himself to play out those kinds of fantasies in his head about her. He hadn't ever been able to stop the dreams, though they had been far less frequent since Kanaan had arrived in the city. After what had happened today, he suspected he had enough fantasy and dream material to torture him for a while.

He let go of his shirt, pulling his thoughts from that subject. He was supposed to be watching the corridor ahead. She could appear in a split second and he had to be ready to meet her.

He shifted his position, feeling faintly irritable just waiting here. Maybe he could go in to talk to her, because several times now she had had the opportunity to hurt him as she had others, but she hadn't. If he could get close enough to inject her with some inhibitor… Yeah, because that plan had been so successful so far! Maybe she would just slap him again. That thought brought forth more memories and more warmth filled his body.

He shifted his position again, trying to distract himself from the tightening in his groin. Now was not the time.

"She's gone!" Rodney abruptly shouted into John ear, creating a very real pain into John's head.

"Quiet," John whispered loudly back as he held a hand to his ear. His ears were already more sensitive than normal it appeared.

"She's gone! Her life sign's gone!" Rodney repeated, only slightly quieter.

"What do you mean 'gone'?" John demanded his body tensing up.

"Her life sign, she moved towards the windows, and then it was gone."

John was running for the door without thinking.

"She must have climbed out again," he suggested as he reached the door.

"No, there's no life sign at all. She's…gone," Rodney repeated, his tone confused and concerned.

No, Rodney was wrong. That wasn't right.

John waved his hand over the door sensor and the doors parted to a darkened room. Immediately John knew that no window had been broken in here, for there was no cold air rushing in, instead the room felt as if it had been closed up and empty for a while.

John gestured to Wallace to follow him in, but keep back.

As he moved into the room, the darkness became a little clearer to him. It was a large room, which extended both ways for some distance. Protruding from the wall behind John, were half walls reaching halfway into the room, rather like privacy screens or the walls of cubicles in an open plan office. The opposite wall was almost entirely filled with floor to ceiling windows, the view of the city spectacular.

John moved silently forward, wondering if he should turn the lights on, but well now into the dark room he realised how much the corridor's bright lights had been making his own eyes ache. The dark was nice, especially with the pretty lights of the city showing through the windows.

He headed towards the right end of the room and Wallace moved down to the left. They moved quietly, the room feeling oddly still, like a bedroom in the depths of night when absolutely nothing stirs.

"Sir?" Wallace whispered as quietly as he could down the length of the room.

John turned and saw Wallace gesture towards the far corner. There were dark large tables and shelving units down Wallace's end, the furniture working as more space dividers, but protruding out from between the wall of windows instead. As John turned that way, his eyes focusing into the darker spaces, he thought he saw an extra, more naturally shaped shadow. He headed quickly towards Wallace.

She came into view, deep in the shadows between the far wall and a large table, knelt at the window, slumped against it.

The sudden fear and panic rose up. He stopped, unwilling to get any closer. She was too still, too…. No, she couldn't be dead. He felt like a cold hole had opened up inside him and it tore through him. He heard his breathing suddenly loud and shallow in the still dark room. The walls seemed to be enclosing around him. No, she couldn't be. No.

Wallace shifted forward, reaching out a hand towards her, and suddenly she twitched. The relief poured into John that he heard himself grasp. But, why was she?

She turned, so suddenly and frighteningly fast that Wallace cried out with surprise even before she had launched herself up at him.

"The life sign's reappeared!" John heard Rodney shout excitedly in his ear. She must have slipped into some hibernation mode or something. That thought was a passing one, because he was rushing towards the struggling pair.

Wallace had a tight grip of Teyla's hair, which was perhaps all that had saved him from her usual shove and punch routine, but she countered by slashing down at him. John heard Wallace's painful grunt, but Wallace had brought his knees up and was forcing her away. She pulled back a step and Wallace released her hair as he tried to scramble up, getting one knee under him as Teyla leapt back at him again. Wallace grabbed at her face again, going for the vulnerable areas with his thumbs.

All this occurred in the split second as John ran towards them, around a table to see Wallace's fist pulling back to punch her in the face. Someone shouted violently as John reached them. He set his hands against Wallace and shoved him hard. As the Major fell away, John followed him, tackling him down to the floor and he punched hard at Wallace's jaw. Another punch and Wallace slumped still under him.

John froze, knelt over the still Major, realisation of what he had just done finally hitting him. He looked down at his own fist, still tight and angry. He had just reacted.

"What's going on? Somebody?" Rodney shrieked into his ear and he tore at the radio, pulling the loud noise from his head and throwing it aside with relief.

Movement behind him had him turning, his fist clenched ready again.

Teyla stood tall over him a few paces away. The light from the city outside barely reflected against her darkened skin, and the matt beauty of her struck him powerfully.

She moved away, heading back towards the door. He stayed still, watching her leave.

He looked down at Wallace, guilt and confusion filling him, but focus returned - there was still the mission to complete. To follow her. He couldn't lose her. They would track her better if he was following her.

He headed quickly towards the door through which she had already vanished.

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"What if we release something into the air on that pier? Something to knock her out?" Chuck suggested from his seat.

Carson shook his head. "Anything we release will affect Colonel Sheppard and the other teams, and we'd have to use a seriously strong sedative to bring her down, one that could adversely affect the others."

"Martins said he thinks it's the Wraith like skin that's blocking the tranqs from working," Amelia pointed out.

Carson nodded. Martins had managed to radio in what he had seen before he had passed out from the pain of what the medics were telling Carson was likely a fracture to Martins' upper and lower arm on one side.

"An airborne sedative might work," Carson considered, "but we've found in the past that both Wraith and Iratus bugs are highly resistant to such things. When we sedated Colonel Sheppard before, it took strong intravenous sedatives to do the trick."

"Besides, we would have to release any airborne chemical throughout the entire pier's ventilation system as she's moving so fast," Dr Zelenka put in from where he was stood by the large computer display that showed the map of the city. Two particular dots were the main focus of the display.

"Colonel Sheppard is keeping up somewhat," Carson pointed out, though that struck him as slightly odd now he thought about it.

"And if she moves out into the open air then any airborne sedative won't work anyway," Chuck pointed out.

"Other suggestions?" Mr Woolsey asked, his concern clear.

"Major Lorne is awake and has Ronon's stunner. I still think that stunner is the safest means of capturing her now," Carson put in.

He had looked Major Lorne over, but the man had been alright, though Carson suspected he had been hiding a few hurts. The Major had been eager to get back into the action especially as he had Ronon's gun.

"Have we heard from Colonel Sheppard again?" Mr Woolsey asked.

"No, but we've found some breadcrumbs," Rodney replied from where he was hunched over his laptop, tapping away.

"Breadcrumbs?" Carson asked abruptly amused at the image of Colonel Sheppard with a loaf of bread, trailing crumbs behind him.

"Major Lightworth says that Sheppard's leaving a path behind him, knocking things over and whatever. He's leaving a trail for them to trace on the ground, but there's another problem," Rodney replied as he spun his seat towards them all.

"What problem?" Mr Woolsey asked with exasperation barely hidden in his voice.

"We're running out of Space Marines," Rodney replied simply.

Mr Woolsey turned to Carson with a raised eyebrow. "It's true enough. She's taking them down with enough force to stop them following, but we've had no major causalities yet. I think Colonel Sheppard is right that we should keep our distance as much as possible."

"So, we need to lead Major Lorne and his team to her, maybe set up a trap ahead of her so we can stun her with Ronon's gun," Mr Woolsey concluded.

"She's already taken out five teams worth of our people and with two teams off world, we're going to run out of people who have the training for this," Chuck reported with apology in his voice.

"How long until Ronon wakes up?" Mr Woolsey asked Carson directly.

Carson cringed inwardly. "He took a full dose of the tranquiliser so I would say hours, but this is Ronon, he'll probably come round quicker, but I can't predict when that'll be."

"For now, we'll stick with the plan to trap her and stun her. I want full coordination for those out on that pier. We are their eyes out there."

Carson saw Rodney's protests in his expression, seeing all the problems with the current plan, but for once Rodney didn't say anything. Rodney was worried for Teyla that much was clear, as they all were, and today, even he didn't want to point out what could go horribly wrong.

Carson turned to leave, glancing at the life signs display, and as he did he faintly remembered there had been something about it that had bothered him, but the thought was gone now.

His place was in the Infirmary for now. He just prayed they were able to stun Teyla before time ran out. Carson had the treatment ready for her. He just needed her to be in the Infirmary to do so.

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TBC


	7. Trap

Infection

Chapter Seven - Trap

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There were no lights in this room and outside night had properly encroached, few stars shining out in the cloudy sky that filled the entire three-story wall of windows.

'Room' wasn't the right description really, it was more like an observatory, especially considering the upper two floors were set back, tiered back one above the other, creating the feeling of a theatre, all focused towards the large wide windows opposite. John had to wonder what the Ancestors had designed it to observe. This side of the building looked off over the edge of the pier, allowing a clear wide view of the ocean and the sky above. Perhaps it had been designed to observe the stars, or maybe there had been something in the distance when the room had first been conceived.

John glanced up at the two open floors above; the only access up to them was by a single sloping narrow staircase from the ground floor. There were no seats up on the next levels that he could see, but he guessed there would been room for them. Maybe some benches, or maybe the Ancients just preferred standing to watch their astronomy shows.

Teyla had led him here a short time ago, and it appeared that she liked the space. As soon as they had come across the observatory, she had paced around it, as if she were looking for something. Maybe it was somewhere safe to stay for a bit, for it felt like they had been on the move for hours now. He considered that maybe she was looking for somewhere safe to go into hibernation again, so he had decided to keep back and quiet, hoping she would find somewhere comfortable. In fact, she had barely given him any attention since they had left poor Wallace behind. He had simply kept following her, sometimes falling behind when she decided to climb up some ridiculous wall and he had been forced to find alternative means to catch up with her. And when he had, she was never surprised when he had appeared, in fact, like back on the tower balcony, what felt like days ago, she seemed to be waiting for him to catch up.

She clearly didn't think of him as a threat, but that had begun to worry him slightly, because his own changes were becoming clearer. The whole of his upper chest was blue now, the scales and spines reappearing at the base of his neck. He could feel the difference inside as well and it worried him. He only had two inhibitor injectors left and one had to be for her, so he had to choose very carefully when to use another one on himself, because if he waited too long by then he might not even remember to use it.

He crouched down in the shadows by the windows, feeling more comfortable in the darker patches away from the moonlight, and he ran his hand over the last two vials. He should perhaps risk using one on her soon, because all of her face was blue now, as were her legs, as he saw when they were revealed between the panels of her skirt, now blue down to her knees, the two tones of her skin colour more obvious than ever before.

He would prefer to inject her once she was hibernating, then she couldn't know what was happening and he wouldn't have to appear as a threat to her. Being honest with himself, the impulse to inject her was growing weaker. The thought of injecting her disturbed him slightly, for to do so would harm her, even a tiny bit, and that felt very wrong. It was necessary though, so he would. For her.

She shifted through the shadows across the room, choosing to walk through the shadowed areas under the overhang of the level above, her manner more relaxed than before. As the retrovirus progressed further she seemed less flighty, more contained and more in control. She seemed to exude a sense of power, of strength. That opinion of her wasn't new for him, but now those qualities seemed to fill the air around her.

He watched her moving through the room. She moved very gracefully, her legs sliding out from the panels of her skirt with each step, the lines of dark blue streaked across her thighs. Her skin looked dark and tempting, strong and supple all at once.

He broke his eyes from her, aware that he was losing his focus on his mission again. It was clear to him that his last dose of inhibitor was wearing off. He had no idea how long it would take for its affects to wear off completely, but he was aware enough of the lapses in mental clarity. Though, it wasn't that he stopped thinking clearly in those moments outside the inhibitor's influence. It was that his thoughts were different, deeper, and more instinctual. He reacted to sudden movements too sharply, too warily, which he shouldn't, because he wasn't the one the teams were hunting down. They were after Teyla. Yet, he found himself reacting as he had in war zones in the past - overly cautious and hyper aware of any little thing. Though Teyla appeared to have calmed, he had become more wary and flighty. He touched his fingers against the vials again and wondered yet again when he should take another dose.

She had moved closer during his thinking and he glanced back to her now where she stood looking up at the open levels above. He wondered if she thought the same as he had; that it was darker and safer up there. It was an instinctive reaction from a part of him that felt compelled to find somewhere dark and safe to hide away. He had to wonder if that was more Iratus instinct than it was human.

"Teyla?" He said softly. He hadn't been speaking to her much, mainly because he had wanted to stay quiet and let her be, but also because he wasn't sure if she understood anything he said anymore.

She didn't look round at him, but he somehow sensed from her that he had her attention now.

"If you're thinking to find somewhere to hide to sleep, you can stop here," he suggested. "You're safe here." He kept his voice gentle, soothing as he did with Torren when he was upset.

She angled her head again to look up at the level above, but as she did, he saw her eyes move over him briefly. She was still cautious with him, keeping a distance between them herself. He wondered why she let him follow her like this if she didn't trust him. She could easily have lost him many times over. The answer had occurred to him some time ago.

If she had infected him with the retrovirus on purpose, she was waiting until he became like her. She was waiting for him to join her side. It might even be one of those Iratus/Wraith instincts, in that a Queen wanted warriors around her. He wondered then if Ellia, when she had attacked him all those years ago, had actually wanted to infect him in turn. Maybe this was a side affect of making a Queen Iratus/Wraith whatever she was and he was becoming again. There probably wasn't another creature like her, like them, anywhere in the galaxy, so they would never know.

What hadn't changed was that he still had to get her to the Infirmary. He hadn't lost sight of that all this time. She had run into two more from another team so far since Wallace, and she had taken them down as quickly and efficiently as the others, but there hadn't been any more teams for a while. John was convinced he had heard the wind change outside a window at one point, making him think that a Jumper had passed by. If he was right, and it had been his order anyway, they were setting a trap to capture Teyla. The quicker that trap was sprung the better for Teyla, but she had been moving so quickly, repeatedly changing direction, that it would have been tough to predict where she was going. She had also led him over to another pier, having travelled from the deepest levels from the last pier to get to this one, up through several buildings, along various levels, until finally they had paused here, near the top of a tall outlying building. She was looking for somewhere he was sure of it, and if he could keep her in one place long enough, perhaps persuade her it was safe to stay here, then the trap would be sprung sooner.

"If you want to rest for a bit," he tried again. "We could stay here a while. Take a nap maybe," he suggested hopefully.

She looked at him properly this time, but not for long, before she looked back up to the upper levels. It was acknowledgement that she had heard him at least, that maybe she understood some of what he was saying.

He moved towards her, but she was ignoring him again.

"How about we sit up on one of those levels up there, watch the stars. We don't have to keep running. They'll find us eventually anyway."

She began walking away from him, as if she didn't hear him now, as she continued to study the upper levels. He followed, keeping a few paces away from her, closer than he had been allowed before. If he chose his moment… She was fast, but he was getting just as fast now. If he moved at just the right time, he could inject her. That would be all it took. Her back was almost to him now, as he followed her. He kept his hands loosely by his sides, his fingers brushing the vials.

"Not that I haven't enjoyed our long run around the city, but don't you want to rest for a bit?" He tried, guessing that his voice would be enough really. If she got used to hearing him prattle on maybe he could get closer.

"I could do with sitting down," he lied. He felt energised and powerful. "It looks nice in here," he added.

She was definitely ignoring him now. She stopped her attention focused in a high far corner.

He stopped a pace closer than before. His fingers closed around an injector.

"We could-" He started.

She twisted towards him abruptly, her lips parted around a hissing threatening breath. She didn't strike at him this time, but the affect was oddly the same. He stepped back, expecting a slap, punch, or shove still, but one didn't arrive. Instead, she glared at him, her eyes boring into his, and it was a clear warning. 'Shut up' was probably the best summary. Or maybe she had sensed that he had been planning something.

He found himself looking away from her, taking a submissive stance as he stepped back another step. The threat hung in the air. She could shove him across the room if she wanted, or break all his limbs, but instead she had warned him off.

Okay, so she wasn't going to be won over by soothing words, or trying to sneak up to her just yet. He had pushed it, and she had called him on it. Her threat had had a strange affect on him though. He had automatically pulled back, looking away, regret thundering through him at having upset her.

He kept his hands held out to his sides, open and in plain view, as he stepped back another pace. He looked back up to her from under his brow, to see her still watching him. The warning had gone from her eyes, and the more centred still expression had returned. She lifted her head slightly and she drew in a deep breath. He felt the pressure in his head again suddenly. She hadn't tried that since back in her quarters, but he felt it now. It wasn't as uncomfortable as last time, but it still was a hell of a weird feeling.

The pressure abruptly dropped away and she spun in place, looking towards the furthest door. He heard the footsteps as well, but they were still some distance down the corridor. The trap was ready by the sounds of it. He hoped that he had held her up enough.

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Lorne wasn't happy. Not only was he still feeling slightly weird from being stunned, but also his wrist was killing him. It wasn't broken, he was sure, but he hadn't let Doc Beckett take too good a look at it, because Lorne wanted back on this mission. He had done his best against Teyla back in her quarters, but she had been so strong, so fast. He had been stunned by the weapon he had been holding and he really wanted the chance to make up for that.

Ronon was down apparently, so Lorne had taken it upon himself, especially with Colonel Sheppard out of contact as he chased down Teyla, to use the stunner to stop her. Ronon's stunner was in his hand now, supported by his other hand, because the stunner was heavy at the best of times, but worse with a bad wrist.

The remaining teams had been fanned out throughout the pier, slowly over the last hour getting closer to the opportune place to finally corner Teyla. It had been tough too, with her racing out of a glimpsed view with enough speed to make you think she would spout wings any second. But, she had been moving slower during the last half hour, spending time moving through levels of two buildings on this pier. She had stayed in one room for a good ten minutes now, so Lorne was guessing even superhuman Teyla had to take a break after hours of constant running. Problem was his people could to do with a rest too, and he was betting the Colonel would be exhausted. However, with so many in the Infirmary thanks to Teyla, there weren't enough people for a shift change. Those who had taken just a punch from her had barely remembered their own name for ten minutes after waking up, especially Major Wallace who still barely remembered finding Teyla let alone her knocking him out. Boorman and Ronon were still fast asleep thanks to the tranqs, and a large percentage of the rest were still in the Infirmary having various limbs put in casts or on concussion watch. He had about a third of the usual staff, and half of them had to be stationed in certain select areas, which left the other half to use for this trap, and all of them were pretty exhausted. All in all, it was turning out to be a difficult night, but their opportunity was finally here.

He pressed against the wall and peered around the last corner that led to the target room. There was nothing ahead so he waved his group forward, towards the far open doorway. He could already see the large room on the other side of the arched doorway, and she was definitely in there. So was the Colonel, hopefully not a hostage as some theories suggested. His breadcrumbs had grown fewer over the last hour and there hadn't been one for the last half hour. The Colonel knew a trap would be set somewhere, so hopefully he would get out the way, or get his opportunity to help.

They had gathered into small groups before they all moved together into place outside the exits to the target room, which meant that the room was surrounded. Every exit was covered, but Lorne was the only one with a weapon that would take her down properly. No one wanted to use live fire, and with her speed, the chances of accidents occurring with live fire worried him. A small group would enter the room and flush her this way if they could and Lorne would stun her.

"Okay, all set?" Lorne whispered. There were a series of clicks on the radio, reporting everyone was in place.

"Okay…one, two, three. Go!" He whispered loudly into the radio.

He heard the faint hiss of doors opening in the far room, but those in front of him held their place, all eyes and tranq darts focused at the open arched doorway ahead of them. They would try to target any darts towards her legs. Anything that could slow her down a bit would help.

"Upper tier is clear," someone whispered over the link after a beat. "We're proceeding down to the second tier. No sign so far."

Lorne held still. In front of him, someone held a life signs detector so he could see what was happening. There were two dots just off central in the room beyond and they hadn't moved. The two teams above were moving gradually towards those dots, but it was difficult with the hand scanners to get the idea of floors. His people looked like they were right by the two other dots, but they were really a floor above.

"Second tier is clear," the report came in. "There's only one way down to the lower level."

"Take your time," Lorne instructed. "Remember we want to flush her this way, so don't engage if you can help it."

"Yes, Sir," came back several whispers and he heard some doubt in their tones.

Lorne tightened his hands around the butt of Ronon's gun and held it ready, but low, not wanting to put too much strain on his wrist until he had to.

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The darkness around her was welcome even if those approaching were not. She could hear the males moving across the levels above her head and their whispered words. A foolish amount of noise.

She pressed her weight slightly further forward, pressing her hand against her male's back, making sure he did not move in the least. His breathing was steady enough, though faster than previously and she could feel the thudding of his heart through her hand. The sense of that life distracted her for a moment, and she leant a fraction closer to the warmth around his body before her, his body and head pressed against the column behind which they crouched in the darkness.

His scent had been altering gradually and she drew it in now. The scent of him had been engaging enough from the start, but he smelt better now. Not quite right yet though, and she could feel that in him. His hesitation and caution, as well as the potential threat of his presence. She had questioned herself if allowing him to follow her was safe, but as his scent had begun to change, she had felt more comfortable. He had defended her earlier and that had reduced her caution to focus on finding somewhere to get away from their pursuers. Yet, wherever she had gone, she had felt their threat follow her, and her male had indicated that he was aware of the pursuit as well. She was not sure why, but she knew he had to understand it. He was strong and vital and he would help her, she was sure of that, and she had not wanted to leave him behind. He would not leave her behind, she was sure of that.

Now, however, his scent was not yet as it should be and she sensed that he was tempted to assist those after them. It confused her that he would and she leant more pressure against his back to remind him of her presence. The sense of him altered slightly again, as it had a few times. His focus was entirely on her now, not those closing on them. She turned her focus to those moving closer, but she continued to draw in the feel of him in front of her. The richness of his scent that told her of his interest in her, it drew forth tingling sensations and warmth in her body. She had no time for that now though, and he still smelt too much like those approaching.

She heard the first steps down towards this level and she pulled back from him to fix her eyes on the legs that appeared just above her position. They were here and she felt a heat in her backbone, a growl in her throat. They had surrounded her and her male. They wished to take and end her freedom. She would not allow that.

She held still, tightening her hand on the male's back, shifting her mind against his to see if he would understand her order. If he understood she was unsure, but he remained still, unmoving with the stillness of a true hunter and warrior. It pleased her.

Two more males had appeared down the steps from above, their weapons raised and their manner cautious. She could taste their discomfort in the air. They could not see her where she was, deep in shadow, but she could see every detail of them.

The males moved across the room, scanning their eyes over as much as possible, but already they knew she would be hidden in the deep shadows. Two more appeared from the level above, but they did not spread across the room as she expected, instead they remained this end of the large space. That surprised her and made her pause. They had a plan and she was unsure of its intent yet.

One gestured ordered others and two of them turned towards the end of the space, moving round towards the shadows and she understood. They were trying to make her flee towards the other end of the space, where they wished her to be. Before the two could move too far away, she struck.

She broke from the shadows, leaping towards the cluster of them. One shouted a warning as she descended towards him, their weapons rising.

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The fight began so fast and so suddenly that he had barely opened his mouth to shout a warning before it had already started. He watched as she landed on Major Lightworth, whose tranq gun was sent flying. She swung round as she bore Lightworth down and Hawking was kicked solidly across his jaw. John thought he heard something crack as Hawking took the hit. Maybe it had been his gun firing towards Teyla's legs. John felt the tension in him as the dart skidded off past her, hitting the floor uselessly, but it had been close.

A Marine, big and strong, had turned towards her, his weapon forgotten as he reached for her. She struck out at him, but he was big enough to deflect several of her strikes and he sent a few punches towards her as well. John seemed to remember this guy sparred a lot with Ronon. Ronon's stunner. It would be here somewhere. They were planning to flush her out, down towards the other door, so John was guessing someone was out there with it, probably Lorne.

John looked towards that far door, confused for a moment. He should run to it, shout out an order to bring in the stunner, fire at them all around her. Take them all down and sort them all out later. Yet, he couldn't seem to move to do it, for his attention snapped back to where she was fighting, four of them against her now. She smacked one man down and he didn't get up, but another rushed her, wrapping his arms around her from behind to hold her.

John glanced back towards the right where the only weapon that could stop her would be waiting. Then he looked back towards the men whose names were drifting from his memory. She had broken the man's hold around her, striking at his head with the back of her own as she simultaneously kicked up at another. The man with the bleeding nose struggled to keep hold of her, but her movements pushed them backwards. John clenched his teeth as he watched them fall to the floor, another male reaching over her. A fiery impulse to enter the fight itched through his skin, but he held still, for he knew that he couldn't trust himself to be on the right side anymore. What was the right side now? He needed to help her, but he knew that fighting off others as he had Wallace wasn't right, but he had to help her.

He looked off to the right again, where others were waiting outside. The thump of a body hitting the floor drew his attention back to the left. There were only two against her now, but they were the larger more cautious males now. The sound of movement from the right told him that they were moments from resolving this situation.

His head was hurting him, his heart pounding, and dropped his head down to press his forehead against the column behind which she had pressed him to hide. He shut his eyes as he heard new boot steps from the left, entering into her fight. He had to do the right thing. He had to get to Lorne, bring in the weapon to stop her. Stop her to save her. Yes, he had to.

He snapped his eyes open to a loud grunt and a body hitting the column in front of him. He pulled back, the adrenaline flooding him again. She was fighting with a fury now, but with no sound, no hiss, no snarl, instead she was a dance of graceful violence in the moonlight. She struck at one man, her forehead impacting against his, her arm slicing out at another. The movements were lightening fast, yet as he watched, he began to see all the details as if everything was moving slower, and he saw every detail of her movements. The males didn't see that though, and they were weak in her presence. Weak to her strength, her controlled elegance, and power.

Movement from the right drew his attention away from the display and he saw others appear through the far door. They were here for her. Weapons rose up towards her as she fought, aiming for her back.

John reached the edges of the shadows and burst out into the moonlight of the room. He reached two of them before they realised something was wrong. He lashed out at them, knocking away weapons, arms, and bodies that would hurt her.

Lorne was before John, his eyes widening and dropping to John's chin. John reached for the dark weapon in Lorne's hand, grasping it tightly and he twisted hard. It came away easier than he had expected and Lorne grunted loudly in pain. The weapon was achingly familiar in John's hands and he turned it, sliding his hand around it, and he fired it without any conscious thought. Lorne was engulfed with the bright light from the weapon.

Hands gripped on John's arms and shoulders, so he struck them away, turning, elbowing and kicking as he fired the weapon repeatedly at those enclosing around him.

Then suddenly there was no one standing around him, all on the floor at his feet. He looked out across the room to where she was, her own enemies at her feet. She was moving away from him though, leaping up the steps to the next floor. He bolted after her.

The new weapon was a secure weight in his hand and he knew it was significant for some reason.

He sped up the steps after her, his legs full of power and strength, but she was already out the far door by the time he had reached the next level. He heard a shout outside the door and he raced towards it after her.

He gripped the stunner tighter as he did, knowing that it was important, but the details why failed him in his desperate need to follow her.

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TBC


	8. Victory

Infection

Chapter Eight – Victory

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She was so fast, faster than him, even though he could tell that he was moving with more speed that he was normally capable. She powered ahead though, a passing male knocked aside as she passed him. The male turned in her wake, firing his weapon after her. John could see the small dark darts flying through the air after her, hitting her in her shoulder and back.

She didn't react to them, but John did. He lifted the stunner and fired, the male barely aware of John's approach until too late and the bright light of the stunner engulfed him. He crumpled to the floor even as John was jumping over him.

John kept the stunner up, sighting down it towards her retreating back, but she disappeared around a corner. He powered after her, pumping his legs and arms for more speed. He turned the corner himself to see her turn and leap over a half wall, to disappear as she dropped down beyond it out of view.

He ran to the wall, looking down at the drop below. She was already on the distant floor. He looked away, spying the open staircase ahead that would lead him down to her level. He ran for it, hearing her soft running footfalls below.

The staircase was flanked on both sides by half walls, elegantly sloping down with the steps. As he reached them, he jumped towards the closest wall, skidding his backside across it, then kicked off, launching himself up over the other wall, down to the distant floor below.

As he dropped, a moment of rationality kicked in, bringing with it sudden fear at the floor racing up towards him. The moment of clarity was like a flash of cold water on his senses, but it poured in too much reality as he stretched out his legs towards the fast approaching floor, with a dread at the snap of bones that would now follow.

His feet met the floor, his ankles and knees flexing on impact, and suddenly he was safely down, with no pain or anything snapping. He had barely felt the landing. The sense of relief was swept up in the rush of adrenaline-fuelled delight. He turned, looking up to the top of the steps high overhead, shocked and impressed at how far he had leapt. The delight was heady, but it was immediately forgotten as he heard the wisp of moving clothing moving away from him. He turned towards the sound, his attention suddenly refocused and he drove after her, using the power his legs still contained from the landing, as if they were coiled springs unleashing their stored energy, to drive himself forward.

She was ahead of him, her speed seemingly faster than before, and he understood that she was running from him now. He pursued, knowing that this would be the last chance that he had to stop her now. The details around that assessment were lost in the running and the fixation he had upon her as she headed through an archway, to crouch and she sprang up a wall, disappearing from view yet again. He followed this time, not pausing to judge the height of the wall, instead he just leapt, his fingers easily catching the top of the high wall before him, to haul himself up to the next level. She was running away to the left, her skirt's panels trailing out behind her.

He followed, but somewhere through the next two corridors and another jump down a staircase, he realised he was enjoying himself. The pleasure sparkled through him, making him feel even more powerful and excited. The doors lining the corridors flashed by, the light level altering in each space through which he chased her.

He was gaining more ground on her.

Ahead, she reached another atrium, the space massive around her, the sounds of her feet and her breathing echoing louder to his ears as she reached the railing before her. She swung over it disappearing down into the darkness below. He reached the railing in a rush, catching himself against it to brake himself. This time he didn't leap to follow her, it was too far and he had enough sense left in this heady race to check himself. Even she had checked her descent, catching against the sidewall, then leaping down to catch against the other wall lower down, before she finally dropped down onto the far floor below him.

She landed in a perfect tensed crouch, and for the first time since this had begun, she looked back towards him. He felt the challenge in that look. She knew he couldn't make the jump as she had.

He looked around the atrium, realising that he recognised where they were now, and the details of this part of the building, in which he and Ronon often ran, fell into place. To the left the walkways extended around the atrium, making the space look rather like an empty mall. He heard her footfalls below and he looked down to see her running off to the left, following the open space of the 'mall', but he had a plan now.

He raced along the walkway towards a remembered side room, through that and down two corridors until stairs appeared leading downwards. He took the first flight in one leap, turned and repeated the same down the other flights downwards. He poured almost too much power into the last one, the eagerness making him stronger, and his shoulder hit the far wall, but he bounced off it uncaring. He dashed away, out through rooms, feeling the subtle turn of the building that he was using to his advantage. He was cutting a corner.

He tore through more rooms, held up briefly by having to open some doors, but he was through them as soon as they parted enough for him to tear through. He broke out into a corridor to hear her footsteps in the distance to the right. He ran on, predicting from his memory where and when his track and hers could collide. He saw railings ahead; he was back at one of the 'mall' walkways.

He gripped the top of the thin metal railing, jumping up and over it into the empty air, turning his body as he did.

He dropped straight down two levels to the floor below, landing directly in front of her.

She slid to a halt, her eyes wide at his sudden appearance.

He realised that his hands were empty, that he had lost something important, but the thought was lost in his rush of victory and excitement.

The light overhead was too bright to his eyes now, but despite that discomfort, the brightness lit her up in sharp detail. Her chest was moving with her faster breathing, the scent of her stronger now that her body was warmed from their long run.

She held still, her body poised and ready, her breathing loud to his ears.

He moved closer.

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"What?" Rodney asked worriedly.

"Colonel Sheppard has been infected with the retrovirus," Major Lightworth repeated again over the radio.

"Are you sure?" Woolsey asked from Rodney's left.

"Ah, yes, Sir," Lightworth replied. "He attacked Lorne and his group, stunned most of them, and I saw his face, Sir."

"And?" Rodney asked.

"It was dark in there, but his neck and chin were the same colour as Teyla's new skin, well the lighter blue colour."

Rodney frowned at that; she was two shades of blue now?

"Where are they now?" Woolsey asked.

"I didn't see, I'm sorry, Sir," Lightworth replied.

"Dr Zelenka?" Woolsey asked and Rodney looked round towards the life signs display of the city that Radek was babysitting. It was currently zoomed in on the building in which Lorne and the Marines had just tried their completely ineffectual ambush. There were two distinct dots moving away from the rest.

"They're heading back towards the city," Zelenka reported, then pressed some controls to alter the view to show the dots from another angle. "And now three floors, no make that five now, below them," he amended. "They are moving even faster than before."

Rodney turned to his laptop where his countdown display shifted, the hours left in Carson's prediction until Teyla would be past saving. They had just over six hours to get her to the Infirmary.

"Dr Beckett, this is Mr Woolsey," Woolsey called over the radio.

"Here," Carson replied with what sounded like a hurried voice, but then he probably had loads of injuries to take care of down in the Infirmary. In fact, Rodney was pretty sure he should still be there himself following his head wound from the Hive crash. His head was pounding again and he felt exhausted, though perhaps that was from the stress.

"It appears that Colonel Sheppard has now been infected with the retrovirus, Doctor. I'm concerned that it could be passed on further."

"Not again," Carson muttered his voice full of the sympathy that Sheppard was due, but would hate. They all knew how much Sheppard had hated the last 'bug incident'. They weren't even allowed to mention it normally. "I'm guessing he must have been injured in a fight with Teyla and some of her blood got into a wound, as with Ellia. It is a risk. He's not going to be happy about this."

"From the sounds of it, he may be past the point of caring right now, Doctor. He just attacked our people and helped Teyla escape from the trap."

"Oh, no," Carson replied.

"And, um, Sir," Lightworth added back into the conversation. "We can't seem to find Ronon's stunner. I think Sheppard took it with him."

Rodney felt a touch of hope at that though. "Maybe he's still trying to stop her, maybe he just reacted badly to the ambush."

"It's a possibility, it seems that those infected with the retrovirus react badly to anything perceived as a threat," Carson considered.

"Major Lightworth, how many of your group can continue tracking them?" Woolsey asked.

"Three of us are ready to go here," he replied, but Rodney just bet they weren't uninjured. "And there's still another team further out, but we're stretched thin."

"Might I suggest something?" Zelenka said from behind.

Rodney turned in his chair towards him. "You? You're going to offer some military strategy?"

Zelenka ignored him. "By Carson's prediction we still have hours to capture her. Surely she will need to sleep, to rest. I've been studying the route she has travelled through the city. I'm convinced that she is looking for something, perhaps somewhere to hide and rest. If we follow her at a distance, maybe we can catch up with her then."

"If Teyla and Colonel Sheppard go into hibernation, we won't be able to see them on the life signs scans," Chuck put in.

"It could take us days to find them if they hibernate in one of the massive atriums, there's so many hidden spaces and rooms. They might even be able to sleep up in a corner of the ceiling or something." Lightworth added in.

"By then it will be too late to treat them effectively," Carson replied with a worried tone. "Has anyone managed to inject either of them with some of the inhibitor?"

"Not even close, but we only have a few injectors left," Lightworth replied. "Most have been broken, though we did find an empty one in a hallway."

"I think our best chance now is to hit them with inhibitor," Carson stated with more confidence in his voice. "I have made up some more that's ready to be sent out to the teams. If you manage to inject them, I can't predict how long the affect will last, particularly at Teyla's advanced stage, so you'll need to get them straight to the Infirmary as fast as you can."

"Understood," Lightworth replied.

"We're still treating plenty of injuries down here, but a good handful should be ready for duty again within the hour."

"Very well," Woolsey said. "Major Lightworth, keep after them, but keep enough distance so as not to spook them. Maybe Colonel Sheppard will stop her first, and if he does I suggest that you retrieve her as the priority to get her treated first."

"Understood," Lightworth repeated. "There's another issue though. We only have one person left with us who has the ATA gene, who can use the portable life signs detectors. If we could have at least two more people with the gene it would be helpful."

"I'll be there," Carson replied rather eagerly. "And I'll bring the inhibitor supplies with me. Give me twenty minutes."

"Dr McKay?" Mr Woolsey asked startling Rodney. "Perhaps you could head down there as well?"

Rodney understood why they needed him as out of the ATA scientists in the city, he had the most field experience. Moreover, those were his teammates out there, but Rodney had seen the list of injured. If the Space Marines couldn't stop Teyla, what chance would he have? He wanted to help his friends though and, despite his fears, he would do anything for them. He just hoped they might remember who he was and that he wasn't a threat, and not pick on him.

He nodded his agreement to Mr Woolsey as he tapped his radio link open.

"Carson?" He asked. "Any chance Ronon has woken up yet?" He asked hopefully.

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Her body buzzed with enjoyment from the race, and at the display of his strength and speed. She could see that knowledge in his eyes, his intent emanating from him. He sought to prove his vitality and now demanded her attention. She enjoyed giving it to him, though her caution still lingered.

He had been pursuing her in some way until now, his intention then somewhat similar to those others that followed her. Now, however, his intention was entirely different.

He moved a pace closer, his eyes lowering down her with his interest. She moved around from him and he matched her movements, so that they circled one another.

His body pulsed with life and heat across their circling, his movements slick and imbued with controlled strength.

He remained intensely familiar to her, and to look upon him brought flashes of recalled images to her mind, but she did not understand the details of them. She understood the recalled feelings and sensations linked with them though, and she relived those now.

As he tightened the circle, and she allowed the new closer distance, she walked through the air he had just moved through, and she drew in his scent deeply. The scent, as with her feelings, remained profoundly familiar, yet new now. Before as he had followed her, he had not seemed quite right, but now, now the scent of him stirred her physically. She tightened the circle herself, moving closer to the heat of his body, drawing in the essence of him through her pores.

She extended her mind to his, feeling the gates now open, sensing the acceptance and the eagerness for her attention. She slid her thoughts easily along his, feeling the echo of the interest she saw with her eyes. Her own deep eagerness intensified inside her belly and she exhaled a breath of delight.

He crossed the small space between them, the circling halted, and he stood right up close to her, demanding her full awareness of him. She held her head up and back, reminding him of his place, and he dipped his head slightly in deference, as he should, but he was still leaning closer towards her.

His breath washed over the sensitive skin of her neck before he inhaled her scent in turn, his body hovering closer with each breath as he sought to be as close as she would allow. She tensed slightly, cautious still at his motives beyond the desire to serve her.

She turned slightly, putting her shoulder between them, but she did not retreat. She ran her eyes over the dark lines of his body, hidden by fabric, but it did not hide his vitality or his power from her. She slid her mind against his again, seeking his thoughts.

They were hot and eager as she met them, and the discovery thrilled her more than she expected, as if their presence confirmed something deeper. They linked with her recalled feelings and snapshots of thoughts, but again the details seemed so far away and incomprehensible to her now. She followed them though, through remembered images of him, feelings of longing around them.

He abruptly moved closer, sliding around her shoulder so that he could stand right in front of her again, inches away from her now. The action no longer concerned her, for a trust was there, old and yet new at the same time. She did not understand all the confusing sensations of her reactions to him, but she understood clearly what existed in this moment and she turned her full attention to it.

She looked up into his eyes, which glowed in the darkness with the shine of his clear vision. His stare was direct, right into her, thrilling her and she sensed his act before he moved.

He moved quickly, as if he expected her to deny the action, and his hands clasped her face, pulling her towards him across the tiny distance between them. Her body met his in that rush, heat pouring around her, as his mouth, open and seeking, touched against her cheek, his breath over her skin. Her skin sung at the touch, a sharp thrill tickling down her backbone, teasing her skin, and she felt her body vibrate with desire.

She pressed her hands to the strong hard heat of his chest, angling her fingers in to test the resistance of his flesh. His breath teased out hot over her skin, his mouth and nose grazing across her cheek as he drew a deep breath in, no doubt tasting her scent again. She felt a shudder through his body under her hands and she angled her head, pressing her open mouth to his cheek, grazing her lips against the scales of his skin. He nipped at her jaw in response, his teeth light and thrilling against her own sensitive flesh.

A sudden distant sound drew her attention abruptly and she snapped her attention around in its direction. They were approaching again.

He had tensed next to her as well, responding to the same sound. She listened intently, her hands still on her male. Footsteps in the far distance, moving down steps. Whispers in the air.

She sensed a change in her male, as if the sounds had broken his sensual interest and his boldness with it. She could still hear his rapid heartbeats and feel the need in his hands on her upper arms. She wondered if he would alter his alliance back to assisting those following now. She looked back up to him, piercing his mind again to seek out his feelings.

There was confliction there, but it seemed similar to the confusion she felt herself, as if he too struggled to understand something from his memories. She felt the ease it would take to issue a command to him with her thoughts, to remind him of his place, but she did not wish to impose that upon him.

The approaching steps echoed louder. She had let them get too close due to her distraction. She pulled back from her male, regretting the retreat from his vitality and his scent, but the caution had returned. If he was to serve, he would, she wished it no other way.

The whispers felt loud against her eardrums and she turned from the sounds, bolting away. She felt intensely angry at the pursuit, at the ceaseless run, that had also disturbed her and her male. She would not allow the pursuers to find them.

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The feelings were conflicting and confused him. The feel of her, the very presence of her had been a spell around him, coating all thoughts beside the very primitive one. A basic and old yearning that suddenly had found its outlet. The spell had been like a dream in which a part of him had taken over, responding without thought, without stress or restraint.

As she pulled back from him, his hands falling away from her arms, the spell broke apart further and he abruptly remembered that he had been distracted from something. That he had missed an opportunity. The feel of her against him, of her mouth against his skin and his against hers… The lure returned and he felt a powerful burst of regret at the shortness of the touch, but also satisfaction in having been allowed to touch her.

His hands itched to reach for her again, and the strange tingling sensation repeated down his spine, urging him to stay close to her.

She looked away, towards the encroaching sounds he too had heard, even through his spell of desire. They were an annoyance, but those sounds reminded him of that search for an opportunity, that he had needed to ensure her safety somehow, but he could not remember why. He had been following her to tell her something, or make sure something happened. He couldn't remember the details. His hands dropped to his sides and his fingers brushed against the straps around his upper thighs. He looked down to the vials on his left thigh.

He frowned down at them, his fingers lingering over the slim cylinders. He struggled to understand why he had to use them, only grasping that they were important for her, and for him too he realised.

She moved further from him, turning suddenly, racing away from the sounds that remained distant yet were swiftly encroaching. He felt the overwhelming physical compulsion to follow her, like a part of him was inextricably linked with her and he was pulled along with her now. However, the struggling confusion in his mind worried him, like threads that had been cut before the pattern could be formed. He watched her retreating back, knew he would follow, but he held still, rooting himself in place as he tried to tie up the threads, knowing the pattern was important, for her.

He pulled free one of the cylinders from his thigh, holding it a certain way with a physical memory that he had not commanded. He remembered using another one before, the sharp pain in his thigh and that it had helped him. It would help his confusion he thought, it would help him make sense of things again.

Her retreating footsteps echoed softly against the walls and he felt her mind against his, questioning that he was not following her. He turned in her direction, tensing ready to run after her, but with a breath, he decided. He stabbed the cylinder against his outer thigh, now working from a different instinct.

The pain was accompanied by an uncomfortable fullness in his leg as something new entered his system. He held the cylinder tight against his leg, until the fullness feeling ebbed, and he withdrew it and its sharp point from his thigh and tossed it aside.

Then he finally gave in to the compulsion to run after her, to be with her again.

000000000  
TBC


	9. Clarity

Infection

Chapter Nine - Clarity

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Ronon woke abruptly, forcing himself out of the heavy black hole of unconsciousness. His vision was blurred and he blinked rapidly, reaching up to wipe his eyes. He struggled up on the soft bed, his body sluggish and resistant to moving, but he forced it anyway.

"Ronon," Carson's voice called from his left.

He swung his legs off the side of the bed and looked across what was a very busy Infirmary towards the doctor who was hurrying towards him.

"Don't rush it. You've been out for hours. I'm amazed you're even awake," Carson rambled, almost excitedly, as he approached.

"I'm okay," Ronon told him as he pushed off the bed to stand up. His legs felt weak under him and he had to grip the edge of the bed to support himself. He gritted his teeth at the sign of weakness and at having to keep a tight grip of the bed to hold himself up, but it was that or fall to the floor. His knee burned with lingering pain, his cheek still felt sore, and his side wound felt strangely comfortable. He touched one hand to his side, feeling the new thick bandages over the wound and as that side stretched, he felt the pull of new stitches.

"Sit down," Carson ordered, but it was with the amused friendliness. He pushed ineffectually at Ronon's shoulder.

"What's happening?" Ronon asked as he focused his rather sleepy mind back on the mission he had been knocked out of too soon. "Did they get her?" Carson's face fell and Ronon pushed himself further upright.

"She's still out there and," Carson replied as he glanced around at the room "there's been a further complication."

As Ronon looked around the room himself, he recognised that most of those in the beds or chairs were military personnel and there were a lot that looked in pain. Teyla's handiwork it appeared. He felt oddly proud even considering the situation.

"Colonel Sheppard has been infected with the retrovirus as well now," Carson reported.

Ronon snapped his attention back round to Carson at the unexpected news. Teyla had been enough trouble, but now there were two of them…and he just knew that they would work together even in that state. The danger level had just gone right up.

Ronon forced his back up straight and pushed away from the bed. His legs were stronger already, and his mind now alert, predicting and planning how he was going to stop two of them now. "Where's my gun?"

"Um, that's another problem," Carson replied with a pinched look.

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As he ran, his mind began to clear. It wasn't as dramatic as the last time, but that he was even aware of that comparison was great. Names were returning, and as they did he was putting them to the faces of those he had fought and stunned back in the observatory. He winced which regret, though he felt certain that no one had been seriously injured. Thank God for Ronon's stunner. He looked down at his hands, belatedly understanding what was missing.

He looked back down the long hallway, stupidly as if he might see the stunner fallen behind him. He had had the gun when he had left the observatory, but he had no idea when he had put it down, or maybe he had dropped it. He cursed himself as he returned his attention to following Teyla.

Teyla.

He remembered her name clearly now, and the seriousness of the situation, and then the other memories collided, of how it had felt to touch her, to feel her response to him as vibrations through her body into his.

That revelation, of her desire and the taste of her skin, shocked him now, his senses still far sharper and intense than normal, had him recalling exactly how she had felt. How natural and perfect it had felt to touch her, to feel her reaction to him.

Had that reaction been solely due to the retrovirus though? A basic mating thing that was a natural response between a male and a female 'Iratus whatever' working together? Had he just been there and like her, so she had accepted his advances? An instant aggressive protest to that question reared up in him, and he took the better opinion immediately. She _had_ responded to him, liked him touching her. He could remember the shiver across her skin as he had touched her. Her skin was different, altered from normal, but it was still her and he hadn't cared. She had felt so warm, so alive, and her skin had tasted…

He shook his head, feeling the spell encroach again, and he tried to force it away with concentration alone, not because he didn't like those feelings, but because he did. He had a mission, one that he had forgotten so quickly and easily. He had to save her, to stop her. He had one injector of inhibitor left. He had to make sure he used it now.

She shifted ahead of him, leaping over yet another railing, disappearing down several floors below, and this time he had no fears, no doubts as he sprung off powerful feet, up and over the railing himself, following her down through the long drop to land in a safe crouch. The thrill and excitement at being able to do this made the pleasure spike again, and he looked up over his shoulder at the height above. This was so cool.

He felt really good, alive in a way that he had not felt in a long time. Teyla shifted ahead of him, moving away down another snaking corridor. He followed, looking around him as he ran, trying to understand where they were now in the building. They had to be in the lowest levels of the building now, perhaps far closer to the main city than he had comprehended before.

Another railing ahead, another leap, and this time as he landed in her wake, he tasted new smells in the air – fresh water and a new cleanliness to the air that appealed.

Teyla hurried forward ahead of him and he pushed to catch up with her, almost reaching her as they rounded a corner and burst into a very large room. It was full of pipes, running through overhead or across the floor, leading to various tanks set up above head height.

It was darker in here than it had been in the corridors and atrium spaces behind them, and the feeling of being deep down, as if on a lower basement level, far from any possible natural light oddly appealed to him.

He drew in the clean scents in here and the rushing sound of contained water pouring through numerous pipes and tanks. There were loads of dark spaces down here, between the many pipes and in, under, and around the raised tanks. Teyla was already moving through them, ducking under and climbing over pipes out of his view.

He started forward, suddenly remembering that he had a mission here. He dropped his hand to his thigh, pulling the last injector free and he wondered if his inhibitor was already wearing off for him to have lost focus so easily again. He had to do this now. He hurried after Teyla, needing to inject her before he forgot that he had to. This really was his last chance.

He could hear her moving around one large tank ahead, her soft footfalls barely audible over the sound of rushing water, even to his advanced hearing. He ducked under a pipe that led from a tank, around panels and faintly glowing consoles, to find another open doorway, which led to the most massive room he had ever seen in the city. He moved through the entrance into the new space, the hard floor under his boots becoming a metal walkway that stretched a short distance ahead of him. A massive tank of water was set in the centre of the space, dominating everything. The floor of the tank room was actually a good ten feet below the walkway, cast in thick shadow by the tank.

The walkway led towards the closest edge of the tank, with which it was level, and John edged towards it. The top of the tank stretched out like a football field, a circular one, though the surface covering the tank was entirely transparent, allowing him to see down into the tank to see that it contained what looked like water. What had to be gallons of water was all moving, turning with the push of large paddles extending out from the central column inside the tank. The sound of that moving water was loud to his ears, but he still caught the sound of movement down to his left. He peered over the walkway railing, looking down to see Teyla moving around the dark base of the tank. He gripped the injector tighter as he ducked under the railing and jumped down to the lower level.

The shadow of the large tank covered everything down here, but his new sensitive eyesight enabled him to see every detail in a strange new monotone clarity. He climbed over pipes that ran through from the closet wall to the tank. The faint dampness to the air was quite nice, almost pleasurable to him. He took a deep breath, tasting the cool moisture in the air as he climbed over another pipe.

Teyla was ahead, walking under the deeper shadow of another walkway overhead. She was looking into even nook and cranny she could find. He understood she was looking for a proper place to hide, so she could rest and slip into a very deep sleep that he knew would be dangerous for her. He couldn't quite remember why exactly, but he knew that such a deep sleep had to be avoided.

They had reached something like a ten o'clock position around the tank from where they had entered, and now the pipes were thinning out. He moved swiftly to catch up with her, as they followed the natural turn of the tank. New obstacles were in their way though, not pipes now, but glowing squared conduits that had to be carrying power.

He climbed over them quickly, nearing Teyla. He ran his eyes over her, worrying about where he should inject her. The darts hadn't penetrated her skin, but the needle in the injectors was stronger and his hand would be behind it. Distaste at having to do this bothered him, at the prospect of causing her any pain, even fleeting, and he hated that she might not like him for it. He shook his head literally, trying to clear the cloudiness seeping into his thoughts again. He had to act now. Why hadn't he done this sooner?

She climbed up onto the next conduit, and he rushed forward, but she jumped down a split second before he reached her. He clambered up over the larger conduit to see that she had found a small lower level set right down at the foot of the tank, the darkness thicker here. There was a console glowing down there, its faint light the only illumination. She jumped down into the small space and he could feel her satisfaction. He had to act now or it really would be too late.

He jumped down after her landing by the console to see that there were hidden spaces between pipes and conduits down here and she was peering into one space. He edged closer as she leant forward, her back to him, as she looked into the dark space. A tiny war flared up inside him, part of him urging him onward, whilst another felt he was betraying her, hating that he was sneaking up on her.

She tensed, sensing his intention or conflict maybe, and that moment gave him the drive to act. He rushed at her and jabbed the injector down towards her right thigh, right up high where her upper thigh was showing through the parted panels of her skirt.

He felt the needle thrust from the injection into her, hating himself as much as he felt a flare of success. She tensed at the pain, her teeth showing, and she moved to turn from him and the needle, but he pressed up against her back, wrapping his free arm around her front, holding her to him as the injector did its quick work. She struggled against him, but he was as strong as her now.

He buried his face into the crook of her neck, willing his thoughts and feelings towards her, praying she would understand that this was for her. It was all for her.

Some of the tension went from her and he pulled the injector from her hip and tossed it away, wrapping his other arm around her. She didn't object to his embrace anymore, in fact the fight was gone from her and together they slumped against the dark damp wall of the tank towering over them.

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"Sir," a hushed voice called to Lightworth. He hurried forward towards the Lieutenant's loud whisper.

They were all feeling particularly cautious after they had had their asses handed to them by Teyla. It was hardly the first time she had knocked down most of the city's military personnel, but Lightworth still felt stunned at the speed and power she had used against them and their clearly weak attempt to capture her. Though, the trap might have worked if the Colonel hadn't turned out to be infected as well. He had taken out Major Lorne's team and, for the second time today, Major Lorne had been stunned. He wasn't going to be happy when he woke up. Lightworth couldn't help feeling a sparkle of amusement though, for he was going to make sure Lorne couldn't forget it for a long time.

He reached the Lieutenant's side, and he didn't need to ask why he had been called over. He reached for the object.

Ronon's stunner sat on top of a half wall, a tad scratched up on one side, but otherwise intact. Lightworth immediately tensed up, looking up and around the high ceilinged space, but there was no hint of a trap being sprung around them. How odd though to find the stunner just left here. He turned it over, but both sides were glowing with life and power. He stretched out his arm towards a near corner and fired the stunner. It fired normally, leaving a darkened smug against the pale walls. He frowned down at it again. Why had it been left?

"Why'd he leave it here?" The Lieutenant asked quietly.

Lightworth shook his head. "Possibly he doesn't understand how to use it anymore, or maybe he had to leave it behind in a fight. But, let's not look the gift horse in the mouth, huh?"

He gestured to his tiny team of three and they moved on down a wide flight of steps. The life signs detector in the Lieutenant's hand showed only their small team's signatures, as Teyla and the Colonel were already out of range, but Chuck was guiding them onwards from the Control Room. There was plenty of time to catch up and encircle them again. This time they would be more prepared.

As he led the way forward, he tapped his radio link.

"Control, this is Lightworth. We've found Ronon's stunner, in working order, just abandoned."

"That's very good timing, Major," Mr Woolsey replied. "Because Ronon is on his way."

Lightworth shared a smile with the rest of his team. Things looked like they might finally be changing in their favour.

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The clarity came like a wash of cold water over all her senses, and Teyla gasped with it. Pain lanced through her head as well though, and she leant forward, pressing her forehead against a cool surface. She breathed through the pain as where she was and who she was began to form in her mind once more.

It was not complete though, details still eluded her, but there was sense and understanding where before there had been none. Faces she remembered and knew well passed through her thoughts, but they were dark memories, in which she had hurt people. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, wishing away the horror she had done. The words passed her lips and her throat felt tight and unused to speaking, as if she had been asleep for a long time.

"They're all alright, no one was seriously hurt," John's voice replied quietly from over her shoulder, against her shoulder in fact.

His body was a warm comfort against her, enfolding over and around her where she knelt on the floor, her forehead against the cool wall, beyond which she could hear and feel water moving.

She remembered running, hallways after hallways, the fear of injury or capture haunting her. Yet, those following her had only wanted to save her, to help her. She understood that now.

She opened her eyes and looked down through the dim light at her arms, seeing the alien changes to her body. Though she felt no revulsion or distaste, she knew she looked wrong, that she was not as she used to be. She felt fearful with the thought, holding still as if moving too much might disturb her new clarity, and cause her to lose herself again.

She had hurt people, and those thoughts all tumbled together, the sounds of breaking bones and cries of pain recalled with sharp clarity. Yet, they had wanted to tame her, control her; she could not allow that. No, that thought was wrong. They were her friends. She clung to that fact, holding it tight so that she would not forget again.

John moved slightly against her, his forehead against her shoulder, and she could feel his breathing against her back. She had bitten him! Infected him as well.

She turned to look over her shoulder towards him, sorrow and guilt plaguing her. He had only sought to save her from her sickness, and she had repaid him with this curse again. She set her hands on his arms around her, and they tightened around her. A surge of feeling met that action and it pulled at sensations that had been woken only a short time ago, a tingling and need blossomed inside her, and she closed her eyes with it. It was so strong, overwhelming her with a physicality that swamped aside her thoughts. Instead, she could only focus on how his body had felt under her hands, his lips and teeth against her cheek.

A hunger, old, yet newly brought to life, tore through her and she gripped her hands further around his arms that held her tightly. It felt so right to be held by him now, to feel his chest against her back - strong and so supportive.

He lifted his forehead from her shoulder and his breath was warm against the side of her neck. She angled her head closer to him, his temple coming to rest against hers. His breathing was loud to her, the expansion of his chest pressing them closer as he drew in his breaths against her back.

He had stayed with her, and she had wanted him to stay with her. In the depth of instinctual feelings, she had wanted him with her, even when she had been cautious of his intentions. He had protected her, fought the others along with her. That companionship made so much sense to her, and it felt stronger now.

She knew that something had prevented an embrace like this before, but already her thoughts were losing the sharpness of complete understanding. She did know that she had always wanted to be held by him like this. To feel him so close, pressed against her, to hold him in turn…

He was so important to her, and to have now felt how important she was to him…it broke open feelings inside her, made her ache with sensations. She closed her eyes tighter under its tide, drawing in the feel of him around her, how he smelt, the feeling of his breath against her throat, his body surrounding hers. She had wanted this so intensely before, but now she knew how overwhelming the reality was, for every one of her senses filled with his presence, until nothing existed at all but him against her and the stirring powerful feelings of her body.

His breath was hot against the side of her neck again, but this time she felt the closeness of his mouth near her skin. His embrace tightened around her further as his mouth touched against her skin. She could feel his open lips resting against her throat, his damp hot breath teasing her skin and she heard her own strangled gasp of delight.

She dropped her hands from his arms to his legs, outlining her own where their knelt together. She laid her hands on the strong toned thighs, feeling through the thin fabric of his trousers the subtle shift of muscles at her touch.

She drew in another breath, feeling him do the same, their chests expanding together, pressing tighter, his arms holding them so close.

She grasped at the thick muscles of his thighs, feeling the power stored there, and his arms shifted around her in response, his hands sliding down her sides, down to her hips.

She drew in the sensation of his touch, his hands sliding over cloth thin enough for her to feel the heat of his palms.

His mouth touched back to her neck again, wet and hot with his tongue within the sharper dull edges of his teeth against her skin.

His hands slid down to her upper thighs, sliding between the panels of her skirt, seeking out her skin beneath. She dropped her head back as his hands smoothed down her legs, his body pressing closer against her back as he reached down her thighs to her knees. His shoulder was warm and solid against the back of her head as his teeth grazed up the side of her neck, his aroused sigh loud and hot near her ear.

His hands reached her knees, and his fingers spread, covering the full width of her legs. She ran her hands down the outside of his thighs in response, sliding backwards over the full roundness of his hips and buttocks. As she gripped him, she arched her back, her breasts tingling with emptiness, but a surge of heat poured down her backbone, down to her pelvis to fill her lower body with an urging force.

She heard her whimpered sigh, heard it echo further off the walls around them, and he murmured out a rumbling sigh in reply, his mouth latching to the edge of her neck. She could feel the biting edges of his teeth and the fullness in her spine grew stronger.

She released one of his hips to reach back to his head, gripping around the back of his neck, feeling the lines of new skin, the edges of spines, between which she slid her fingers. He shuddered at that touch, his body vibrating against hers.

His name echoed in her head, perhaps from her lips as well, as his hands slid between her knees, drawing up along her inner legs. She parted her knees as his hands slid up her sensitive inner thighs, and she rocked her body with the desire rolling inside of her.

She rocked her hips backwards, sliding within the tight cradle of his pelvis, rubbing against the blunt edge pressing against her backside.

He growled deep in his throat, rubbing back against her, pushing his chest further against her back, folding her forward some more.

She set the tips of her claws against the back of his neck, grazing against his tough skin, as she leant forward under his warmth, his hands squeezing up the tight space between her upper thighs.

She dug her other hand into the fullness of his buttock behind her, and she spread her thighs further apart for the pressing stimulating warmth of his hands grazing up higher towards where she ached the strongest.

He grumbled a deep dark sound against her shoulder as he turned one of his hands, sliding into the hot heat of the narrow space between her legs.

She growled out a response at the intimate touch, aware of the animal sound emanating from her throat, but it did not matter to her.

She pushed her head back to his shoulder again, arching her body within the tight enfolding presence of his body over hers, as his fingers cupped her, and then slid and pressed with single determined pressure at her entrance.

She opened her eyes as his free hand slid up from her hips, sliding to the edge of her shirt, seeking her skin beneath it. His palm slid across her lower belly in time with his pressing invasion.

He drew up her shirt, sliding his palm up her middle with a quick impatient motion, revealing her bared breasts to the air, his warm roughened palm enclosing around one.

The cooler air against her front drew her attention from the sensations enough for a former concern to return. She opened her eyes and looked towards the foot of the tank before her, under which she had found a dark place that would suit her needs.

She moved her hands to his arms as she pulled forward from his warmth, reaching out towards the entrance to the hidden space before her.

His hands slid over her as she bent forward, looking into the crawl space beneath the tank. It was not as dark inside as she had expected as some light glowed from one side where a squared conduit ran into the crawl space and turned up into the base of the tank above. She rose up from her knees and he shifted back as she dipped and crawled into the hidden space.

The enclosed, confining space surprised her with the intensity with which it pleased her. A new sense of safety filled her, easing the exposed feeling she had felt outside.

She slid herself deeper inside, across the smooth floor, turning to look back at the entrance to see him setting his hands into the opening to follow her inside.

The air was warmer in here, more comfortable over her breasts and her parting legs, as she reached for him.

He crawled in after her, there being enough height for him to crawl on his hands and knees towards and over her, one hand sliding straight to one of her legs, pushing it further away from the other.

His name echoed again in her head, though the further meanings and associations with it drifted away as his warmth covered her as he pressed himself down over her, his mouth hot against her cheek, grazing to her jaw.

She lifted her legs up, crossing her lower legs around his backside, pulling him down against her fully, rubbing herself against the pressing hardness of him.

Urgency was filling her, desperation to touch his skin forced higher as his hand surrounded her breast, kneading and pulling, her nipple teasing against the rough centre of his palm.

She forced her hands between their bodies, fighting against his desire to press them together as tightly as possible, to grasp at his clothing, pulling his shirts up to expose the flat toned width of his belly and chest.

She ran her hands up the tempting expanse of flesh, and he pulled up enough at her caress for her to see his slim muscular strength, hard dark skin now emphasising the edges of toned flesh and bone. The glow of the conduit played over him for a moment more, before he pressed down over her again, his mouth at her throat, his rumbled sounds of appreciation mixing with demanding heightening arousal.

She scratched her fingers down his sides, rubbing her breasts against the roughness of his chest, strangely aware of how the sensation was unlike ever before.

His clothing blocked her sliding hands around his hips though, and she pulled at the tight constriction around his waist. She pushed her hands between their bellies to get to the front of the clothing, and this time he immediately pulled up enough to assist her.

His hand grazed down to her breast again, enclosing it entirely in his hand, squeezing and grazing his nails against her bringing forth a shocking tingling feeling. Her backbone glowed hot with feeling and she tore more forcefully at his clothing.

The constriction freed, she pulled and pushed, using her feet as well as her hands, to push it all away, sliding her palms over the strength of his rump.

His nails grazed down from her breast, down over her belly and he pushed away the panels of fabric covering her, one of his knees pressing her leg out further. She parted her legs, drawing them up as his hand sought out her hot centre again, pressing and invading.

She sighed out the growl that it brought out of her, as she reached impatiently for him, capturing his hips in her hands as he leant back over her. His fingers were replaced with the full head of his arousal, pushing into her, stretching and fulfilling as he pressed his entire body down over hers, his possessiveness clear.

He filled all of her that felt needfully empty, stretching sensations to breaking point, and she gripped onto him, her feet against his backside as she arched her centre up against him to take him fully, to hold the sensation of their joining as long as possible.

Her body sung with vibrations, a mixture of known and unknown urges rolling through her, as she held still, his invasion complete and she tightened around him further as her own possessiveness slammed into place.

Her mate.

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She was deep and hot, wet and tight around him. He sank deeper, feeling the overwhelming sense of possessive satisfaction to lie over her, to be accepted inside of her, and to feel the tightening pleasure he gave her.

His Queen.

She lifted her hips, forcing her groin tight against his and he felt her tighten further deep inside, surrounding him entirely.

He laid down further over her at the sensation of her possession of him, setting his nose right into her neck, inhaling her darker spicy scent.

The constriction kept tightening though and a frisson of alarm faintly echoing in the back of his mind, but the near painful pleasure was too good. Two bands now encircled him tightly within her, squeezing into him more than the rest of her, but not quite to the point of pain. Her legs came up higher around his hips, her hands sliding around his back, playing between spines that he hadn't been aware stretched down and out from his spine over his shoulder blades. They were sharply sensitive now, the grazing sliding touches of her fingers, teasing his skin with a tingling arousing sensation.

She surrounded him, engulfing him entirely and he surrendered to it, though fought against the overwhelming urge to just release, to surrender, to end the heightening intense pleasure. He fought against the release with a desire that he didn't quite understand, as if he never wished to reach the peak tempting him onwards.

He pulled his hips back, the extra bands of restraint preventing him from withdrawing from her entirely, holding him inside of her. He pushed back into her, and the bands rubbed pleasurably around him, threatening the control he desperately held onto.

His backbone was burning with pleasure and as he pulled partially out of her again, he pulled his upper body up from over her, pressing his shoulders back against the cool ceiling above him. He pushed back against the ceiling's resistance as he pushed back into her, filling and giving.

Her hands trailed down his chest, her nails trailing over lines of sensitivity he hadn't been aware of before, gripping around his sides as he thrust again. His pleasure rocketed, driving up his spine now and he almost couldn't hold on any more. She was too much, too exciting, too tight, too…

She pushed up at his waist, her mental command flowing into his head along with the physical push. He dropped his left shoulder and rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him, though he need not have feared any separation. Inside she held him firmly, holding their mating, but her hands and knees remained tight around him as she sat up over him, the glowing light from his right lighting up her body over him.

He reached down, impatiently seeking through the panels of her skirt for her backside, and she rocked against him as he gripped full handfuls of her buttocks.

Her hands dropped onto his chest, her weight bearing down on him, as she ground herself against him.

His release hit abruptly, tearing through any control he might have once had, and he pounded up into her as she moved with him, her shoulders pressed up back against the ceiling over them.

The blissful sensations passed through his body as he gave all he could to her, staring up at her, whimpers of pleasure mixing with his groans.

Then passive fulfilling warmth spread through him, his body heavy against the floor under him. The satisfaction burned almost as brightly as the pleasure had, filling him with a deep possessiveness as he gazed up at her over him. His.

The urge to defend followed almost instantly, as if something would challenge his possession, even though she was here safe with him. He tightened his hands on her hips, holding her to him, as aggression and fear warred inside, but he couldn't understand towards which enemy he felt so aggressively. The wave passed as she moved over him, and he felt that inside of her, one of those tight bands remained around him, holding him within her even though his arousal had faded. That tight support to keep him inside her started up new warmth in his groin, his worried feelings lost and forgotten instantly as he felt the physical desire flare to life within him again already.

Her hands were sliding down his chest and up to the spines lining his neck, the edges of her fingers sliding around them, teasing the new growing arousal further and he felt himself growing inside of her again, the band expanding with him, but close to keep his attention.

He looked up at her face, her head dropped forward with her shoulders against the ceiling. Her mouth was open, her breath a hissing sound of pleasure as she rocked herself on his growing sex. She repeated the motion and he slid his hands up over the long tempting lines of her belly to her breasts.

He captured them in his hands, massaging and kneading, squeezing and grazing purposefully against her nipples with the centre of his palms. She sighed and hissed as she rocked over him, her body undulating in a sensuous wave that had him unable to look at enough of her. He slid his hands from her breasts to rub up over them again, squeezing as he thrust himself up into her with force.

She cried out in primal delight, the sound pouring into him and he thrust his hips up again, reaching for one of her hips with one hand, to pull her tight against him as he thrust.

Her claws bit into his chest as she moaned out a long growling purr with her release and he felt her juices around his erection. He kept up his movements, filling her, pulling back as far as her hold on him allowed, and then back into her.

She clawed as his chest as she began rotating her hips again, her scent so strong and confirming that he pleased her.

Her mind slid around his, the sensation as arousing as her body, and he drove into it all, pulling her down against him to roll them over so she was under him again. He thrust fast and deep, desperate to possess now, to satisfy as long as she needed.

He set his teeth to her shoulder, drawing her flesh into his mouth, biting and sucking as he thrust, her claws digging deep into the line of his spine, scrapping down to his lower back releasing that burning surging sensation in his backbone again.

Her legs came up high, clasping high around his middle as her hands moved aggressively down to his backside, seeking a new carnal fast release. He hammered his hips against her, as she ran one of her hands up his chest, her fingers digging in around the site of her bite mark.

Arousal heightened at her touch, delight at knowing that she was his and that she had chosen him, powering him into her to his next release, so powerful that he heard his own cries echo loudly around the tight space around them.

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TBC


	10. Capture

Infection

Chapter Ten - Capture

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Ronon's patience was stretched thin, not only by the situation, but also by the aches and pains in his body that were weaknesses slowing him down. It had been a long walk out to the pier, his knee shooting new pains up and down his inner leg, but he ignored them, pushing onwards, ignoring it all. He'd had worse.

Woolsey hadn't allowed the transporters back on, so Ronon had been forced to walk the entire way, and then divert and wait for the rest of the walking wounded to head in from the Infirmary behind him. The only thing that kept him from storming into the room where Teyla and Sheppard had remained for the last half an hour, was that he didn't yet have his stunner back. Once it was in his hand though, he would head in, regardless if anyone else was ready. He would bring in Teyla and Sheppard himself, this time ready for the speed and strength of her.

So it was with eager aggression, the local pain relief in his side now wearing off somewhat, that he saw Major Lightworth ahead at the rendezvous site, and the lost gun in the man's hand.

Ronon reached out towards it as he approached, his hand and hip hadn't felt right without it. Lightworth smiled as he turned the weapon and presented it butt first to Ronon. It was like the return of an old lost friend, and Ronon knew that that felt like. Only his stunner was far more valuable, especially today.

"She's a bit scratched up, but working fine," Lightworth reported as he handed over the gun.

Ronon turned it over, his gaze picking out the new scratches from the collection of old ones. There were a series of long deep scratches along one side of the barrel, but otherwise it was in good working order to Ronon's eye. Finally back in his hand.

"Thanks," Ronon replied gruffly as he gripped the weapon, his nerves settling slightly at its return, and some of his patient returned with it.

Lightworth's team, five in number now, looked rather beat up, sporting a series of field bandages and there was a dried trickle of blood down one side of the Major's cheek, but they looked ready to end this as well.

The team, who had been lagging behind Ronon even with his complaining knee, finally caught up, and all piled into the corridor to meet up with Lightworth's group. Random unnecessary pleasantries were exchanged between the two groups, who had been in only radio contact for hours now.

"They still in there then?" someone asked Lightworth, everyone turning towards the open doorway ahead. Rodney, Carson, and a Marine Hawking were stood facing it, each with a glowing scanner in their hands.

"There's a much larger room beyond, which has only two exits. We've sealed that far exit completely – there's no way out that way anymore, so this first room is the _only_ way in or out now. We've got 'em trapped," Lightworth reported.

Ronon nodded at the plan, liking where this was going.

"Only problem we're having," Lightworth added which caught Ronon before he moved forward. "Is that the scanners are weirding out about their life signs."

That worried Ronon. Surely, despite how altered Teyla and Sheppard became, they would still register as clear life signs? Or were they getting sick?

"It's the power conduits," McKay interjected immediately. "There are two branches of power conduits in there that run almost directly from the ZPM itself. They must be right on top of a conduit for it to interfere with the readings."

"Could it be the start of hibernating?" Someone else suggested.

"Unlikely," Carson replied as he looked up from his scanner. "From what we've seen before, Wraith and even Teyla previously, can drop into hibernation at the drop of a hat."

"Is this going to present a problem for us once we're in there?" Hawking asked.

"Shouldn't do. Once you get close enough it shouldn't be such a problem," McKay replied, his sentence implying he wasn't planning on getting so close himself.

"And for that," Carson added, pulling his backpack free from his shoulders. "Other than Ronon's stunner, the only way the rest of us will have to slow them down, is to use one of these." He pulled out a handful of injectors and began handing them around to the group. "If you get close enough, use one of these and the inhibitor should clear their heads long enough. At least until Ronon can stun them."

Ronon didn't take an offered injector, he just held his stunner higher. He wasn't going to make a mistake this time.

"The stunner gonna be enough?" Lightworth asked glancing at Ronon's hand. "They've been resistant to just about everything else."

"We know from the last time Colonel Sheppard was infected with the retrovirus that Ronon's stunner worked on him, even at his most advanced stage," Carson replied with confidence.

All the injectors had been handed out and they were ready, so Ronon pushed ahead, impatient once again to get this done. Time was supposed to be important here.

He strode through the doorway ahead, his gun a welcome weight in his hand as it had always been when going into a fight. Behind him, Lightworth was issuing orders, splitting the group into twos to spread out through the room ahead, but Ronon didn't need to listen to that.

"McKay, with me," he simply ordered over his shoulder as he entered a room full of pipes and tanks of water set above glowing consoles. He heard the nervous patter of boots behind him as McKay caught up.

"That way," McKay reported in a loud whisper around Ronon's shoulder as he stretched his arm out straight indicating to the right.

Ronon moved in that direction, scanning the even floor ahead as he did. He ducked under a large pipe, the dampness thick in the air, to find a natural path ahead twisting between tanks and consoles.

"It's kind of like that Iratus cave," McKay uttered quietly and thoughtfully, talking to help control his nervousness, as usual. "Damp and dark, high ceiling."

"Quiet," Ronon snapped at him and the doctor lapsed into nervous silence.

They passed a metre wide tank that was level with Ronon's shoulder, which smelt faintly like a meadow and as he glanced at it, he could see a thick layer of green goo coating the water's surface inside. He had heard that algae or something was used to purify the recycled water, or maybe in processing sea water, but he hadn't quite believed it until he saw it. He had to admit that the organic scent of living things in here added to Rodney's assessment that it was rather cave-like down here.

Rodney gestured again with a huge waving movement to Ronon's right to indicate which way to go, the exaggerated signal his way of expressing annoyance and nervousness that he couldn't speak out loud as he wished. McKay's behaviour in the field had seriously improved over the years, but there was something about going up against the affects of the retrovirus that unnerved them all. Even Ronon felt the niggling nervousness at the back of his skull, a part of him acknowledging that he hadn't been so outmatched in a long time as he had against Teyla today. He had misjudged her, but he wouldn't this time. Her or Sheppard.

That the two of them had stuck together, not fought against each other, implied, as Ronon had suspected, that they would likely work together against their common 'enemy'. That would make things far more dangerous for everyone, including Teyla and Sheppard, so Ronon would make sure to deal with this his way. He gripped his stunner tighter, his determination growing with each step forward.

As he reached another pipe, he saw the faint outline of a smeared hand mark in the light layer of dust over it and judging by the hand's width, it was Sheppard's. Definitely on the right track. He climbed up over the pipe himself, McKay struggling over behind him. Ronon waited long enough to be sure that McKay wasn't going to fall off the pipe and make too much noise, and then moved on, following the snaking path between tanks and consoles. Pipes hung low overhead and he climbed over two more before another doorway came into view. McKay gestured that it was the right direction, and Ronon led the way towards it.

This new room was larger still and a massive tank of water, like a huge deep swimming tank, dominated the space. Ronon moved carefully and slowly forward, his gun raised ready. This was the room.

The walkway was metal and he frowned at the noise McKay's boots made against the mesh as he followed. He glared round at the man and looked pointedly to his boots and McKay pulled a worried expression of apology.

Ronon turned away again, moving quietly forward, towards the tank's edge, noticing that there was a clear covering over it, under which large paddles were turning the water, creating a constant background noise that filled the massive room. This was a smart place to hide. There had to be a hundred places down below the walkways, between pipes and conduits that they could hide, and with the constant sound from the tank, Ronon would find it difficult to pick up any quiet sounds. Doubtless, they wouldn't have such a problem.

McKay moved in close to his shoulder, holding round the scanner for Ronon to see. The display showed a large diagram view of the circular tank in front of them and bright lines moving away from it to one side that presumably were the power conduits. McKay pointed to where the two dots ahead held still between two of the conduits. They were to the far left, right up against the tank.

Ronon peered over the edge of the walkway, looking for a way to get down into the shadow of the massive tank.

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She breathed softly beside him, her belly moving with each breath beneath his palm as she slept.

He remained awake, resting, as his breathing still settled from their exertion. The sound of constantly moving water above soothed him, tempting him into sleep, but he resisted it. His attention was fixed both on her breathing beside him and alert to the constant sounds entering the confining space. Part of him itched to move to that exit, to watch over her from there, whilst another had him remaining beside her where he could touch her skin and listen to her breathe.

Beside him, her sleep deepened and he moved his eyes to her. Several times her sleep had deepened, her breathing slowing, and each time, as he did now, he rubbed his hand against her belly. That tiny distraction was enough to pull her from that deepest of sleeps that he was still so desperately reluctant to allow her to seek.

She would wake soon, her short rest recharging her strength. She desperately needed food though and he would find some for her once she woke. Memories of a large room, filled with tables and people, but more importantly food, filled his mind. There would be too many pursers around there though. He would have to find another way.

Something vibrated through the air and he snapped his eyes to the small exit to their space. He held his breath, listening through the constant sounds above, to hear a new faint distant sound. Instantly concerned, he slid along her side to the exit, his hand gliding down her leg as he did, drawing her from her sleep. He peered out into the large space outside, tasting the air, and listening intently. The sound repeated, confirming the first.

They had been found.

She tensed under his hand over her lower leg, her mind alive with sensation and activity once more as it slid against his. He released her leg and slipped out of the exit, softly dropping into a crouch outside. He secured his clothing around his waist, pulling down his top to cover his skin against the cooler air outside their hiding space. As he did, she slipped out to crouch beside him.

Her scent filled the air around him, distracting him for a moment. Her mind slid further against his, seeking out what he had sensed, and the sensation of the mental touch was almost as stimulating as her touch had been. He dropped his eyes to where she was pulling her clothing back into place. The urge to touch her pulled at him, until he heard the sound again in the distance. All arousal, thoughts of food, and sleep were gone. He turned, his shoulder against hers, as they listened.

She moved from him, rising up to peer up to the main floor space, set up from where they hid. He rose up and followed her, brushing one arm along hers as he moved ahead of her, the skin of his arm tingling with the contact. He moved past the flashing lights of a panel to his right, to the steps that led the way out of this lower section. He listened intently as more sounds added to the first, locating movement, speed, and number of those hunting his Queen. The newer sounds were from another direction, which meant that there were more approaching from further around the large space. All moving in this direction.

They would be trapped soon if they did not move.

She came to the same conclusion as him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see her turn and set her hands to the side of the tank and she climbed up enough to look up at the level above.

The attack began instantly. Light blazed overhead and she darted aside just before it engulfed her. Enraged, he leapt up to the level above, seeking out the enemy, to see they were some distance still. The tall male leading the hunt held a weapon that bolted out light again.

John dropped down and leapt away over a glowing conduit, half his senses locked onto where 'she' was moving up the tank. He looked up to see her climbing with powerful speed. The blast of light rang out again, but she moved further around the tank before it struck her. John would make sure she had the time to reach the height of the tank where he knew she was aiming.

He jumped up onto a glowing conduit and raced down its length towards those who would harm her. There was shouting from far to the left, but he ignored it, those ahead were the current threat. The tall male's attention was immediately split as he ran forward to keep sight of her, to then see John rushing in the male's direction.

John growled loudly to draw more attention to himself as he raced towards the threat to his Queen. The tall male turned his attention on John and fired a burst of light towards him.

John launched himself upwards as soon as he had seen the light begin to form in the end of the weapon, jumping over the bright emitted light as it flew towards him, to see that the tall male had already turned his attention back towards her.

The arch of his leap brought John down closer towards the tall male, but another smaller male appeared and shouted out an alarmed warning, which the taller male responded to instantly. The weapon swung back round towards John, so he twisted in the air, gripping a passing pipe and used it to abruptly stop his descent. As soon as John's boots hit the pipe, he pushed off from it, throwing himself towards the tank wall himself now. He was now between the pursers and his Queen. Satisfaction flared almost as bright as his anger as he leapt down at the tall male who thought he would harm her.

However, as John pushed up and forward through the air, the weapon fired faster than he had expected, and the light rushed towards him, impacting against his chest as he dropped down towards his prey.

His last thought was to injury the tall male as he fell upon him as hard as possible.

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McKay shouted a warning and Ronon looked out the corner of his eye to see that Sheppard had moved faster than predicted. Ronon sighted back down his gun to where Teyla was near the top of the tank, her movements disturbingly alien in their quickness and the angle of her limbs. But, before Ronon could stun her, Sheppard jumped abruptly into view, clinging to the side of the tank, clearly to block Ronon's view of her.

Wraith-like eyes stared at Ronon with an aggression that Ronon instantly understood, but Sheppard had made his mistake as he sought to protect Teyla. Ronon fired his stunner as Sheppard launched himself from the wall of the tank down towards him. McKay shouted again as Sheppard dropped towards them, the energy of the stunner fire surrounding him bright in the dim light.

Ronon took the brunt of the impact, unwilling to let Sheppard just drop to the floor, though there hadn't been all that much time to move anyway. Sheppard was unconscious at least, but he was still a heavy weight as he landed on Ronon.

Ronon fell back under the weight of his friend, the strange blue skin seeming darker now. The floor was damp, hard, and cold under Ronon's back, but he ignored it, rolling Sheppard away in time to see Teyla disappear over the top of the tank. Cursing he got up to his feet, his side burning intensely.

McKay crouched down beside Sheppard, and Ronon afforded himself a quick glance down at their friend whose face was almost entirely blue, the change faster and more dramatic than last time.

"Teyla's on top of the tank," someone shouted over the radio link. "Heading towards the east wall."

Ronon considered the best way to go, and picked the direction he and McKay had entered. He needed to get back up to one of the metal walkways above, which would give him a clear view of her on the tank, and he suspected she would aim for a walkway anyway.

"Sheppard is stunned," McKay announced on the radio.

Ronon trusted help would arrive for McKay, as he raced away.

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The water turned below her, agitating her, despite the solidity of the transparent cover across which she ran. Her mate had been taken down, she was sure, for she could not feel the presence of his thoughts against hers anymore. She was alone, and there were many in this large space, all hunting her. She ran though, across the vast tank, the water turning and sloshing beneath her feet. She could not smell her pursuers clearly, since the air was so thick with sweet scented dampness.

She ran faster straight across the width of the tank, but she could feel the sapping tiredness that was draining her body now. She should be furious with those after her, but it was too much distraction from forcing all her energy onto getting as far away from her pursers as possible. Her stomach was aching with hunger and her heart fearful for her mate.

She heard boots landing on metal and she looked across to the far right to see the tall male appear, sighting his weapon towards her. She darted one way and then another as she heard the blast of sound that had taken down her mate. She felt the heat of it rush past her as she dropped and rolled away. There was nowhere to hide whilst moving across the top of the tank. She rose up into a crouch, tensed her legs and leapt up and forward, feeling another burst of dangerous energy fly past.

Shouting told her that more were ahead of her now, and two more males appeared on a walkway ahead. They held up shiny cylinders in their hands that she recognised, but could not remember where from, but she understood how they held the cylinders – they were weapons to be used against her.

She landed into a crouch and tensed to leap forward again, only for another blast of fire to slip past her as she jumped and abruptly her left arm was tingling with numbness, the sensation spreading up her shoulder. It stole some of her breath and she fell back down towards the tank, though she barely felt the impact of the landing against her shoulder through the stealing numbness.

As she opened her eyes, she saw the turning water right beneath her, and a small series of cracks spreading out under her shoulder across the cover of the tank.

A fierce terror filled her to feel the cover weaken under her, threatening to break apart and drop her down into the water below. She struggled away, using her awake and useful right arm to push herself up and back. Her entire left side felt numb down to her hip now so she struggled up onto her knees as she tried to move away from the cracks.

A blast of cold fire hit her back, dancing over her shoulders and around her. She felt the tremors of it filling her body and the darkness engulfed her consciousness before she could feel anything more.

00000000

"She's out," Major Lightworth shouted just as Carson reached the base of metal steps that led up to the walkway above, upon which the Major and Hawking stood. They held the injectors as their weapons, their guns by their sides, since they all knew that Ronon's stunner was all that would effectively stop her. And it had, finally.

Carson let out a loud rush of breath, his relief palpable, and he paused in his hurried rush to take another calmer breath.

"Moving in," someone said into the radio.

"Wait!" Major Lightworth ordered abruptly. "The tank cover, I can see a crack spreading out from where she fell."

Carson's relief was completely forgotten. There was no way he was going to lose Teyla now into a vat of water, unable to save herself in her unconscious state. He hurried up the steps, his legs burning already from his mad run around the massive tank following Major Lightworth.

He clambered up the top steps to reach the metal walkway, grasping the thin railing as he moved towards the two men stood looking across the tank. The top of the tank was clear, disconcertingly so, and about a third of the way from them Teyla lay on her front. She was completely still, but it was the small fracture lines in the clear surface near her that worried Carson.

"Do we know what's in the tank?" He asked worriedly.

"Water?" Hawking answered, partly with sarcasm, but also doubt.

"Salt water?" Carson demanded worriedly. If Teyla fell into salt water it could hurt her as dramatically as salt water burned Iratus bugs. He pushed right up beside Major Lightworth to look down over the edge of the tank before them, into the swirling water below.

"It's recycled water from the city," Rodney's replied over the radio and Carson relaxed a touch. "It's treated in the tank, but that doesn't mean that there isn't nasty stuff in there," Rodney added with distaste.

"How's Colonel Sheppard doing?" Carson asked as beside him Major Lightworth was carefully stepping forward onto the top of the tank's edge.

"He's still out," Rodney replied. "Do we know how long it might last, because I'm here by myself with him and…"

"Hayes and Chan, get round to sit with McKay," Major Lightworth ordered.

"I've got medical teams heading in to us, Rodney. It'll be no time," Carson assured his friend. Across the far width of the tank, Carson saw that two faces had disappeared from another walkway, to go help Rodney watch over John. Carson was pretty sure the stunner's affect would last for a good half hour. He turned his focus back to Teyla and her precarious position.

"It's barely a crack in the size of this tank," someone was saying over the radio from across the other far side of the tank.

"Yeah, like a crack in your windshield," the Hawkings agreed as he followed Major Lightworth up onto the tank's cover.

"You got to watch those, one big bump on the road and it'll spread big time. Didn't you ever see those ads?" Major Lightworth replied as he moved carefully across the tank.

"Sorry, Sir, I haven't been able to catch much TV lately," the Hawking replied with grim humour.

They were edging their way along the tank cover, following the line of a supporting strut visible under the cover, which ran widthways across the tank. Teyla laid a couple of metres or so away from that line. Carson watched cautiously as the two men neared Teyla's position and paused.

"Okay, this is more than a minor chip. The crack is spreading under her weight," Major Lightworth reported.

"It's been holding for over ten thousand years," Rodney argued over the radio link. "I think it'll take Teyla's weight."

"She came down pretty hard on it, hit it with her shoulder I think. She's pretty strong right now."

Carson watched, itching to help, as Major Lightworth and Hawking crouched down over the cover's strut, and the Major lent forward, lying down onto his front, spreading his weight as he began to slid himself towards Teyla.

Her head was turned away from him and Carson tensed, wondering if she could already have shaken off the stunner affects already. What if she was pretending she was out? He watched nervously as Major Lightworth carefully slid one hand around her closest arm and reached with his other hand for her waistband.

"Careful," someone whispered over the radio.

"Ronon, keep us in your sights," Major Lightworth asked, his voice tight with the awkwardness of his position and the growing tension.

"Already done," Ronon replied immediately and Carson looked off towards the ten o'clock position across the tank from him to where Ronon was stood tall on a walkway, his stunner pointed unwaveringly at the small group on the tank. Carson looked back to Teyla to watch as Major Lightworth carefully pulled Teyla towards him.

She didn't stir, and Carson could tell from the way she moved, as the Major shifted her, that she was completely under. He relaxed a little bit more.

Hawking reached forward and grasped the back of the Major's jacket and pulled him, with Teyla, further back towards the more secure support over the strut. Major Lightworth got to his knees on that more supportive section and with Hawking's help they carefully rolled Teyla over onto her back. Then the Major got one boot under him as he slid his arms under Teyla, and in one swift decisive motion, he stood up with her in his arms. They didn't pause then as they headed quickly back along the strut towards Carson.

Carson leant eagerly over the edge of the tank as they arrived, reaching to support Teyla's head as Major Lightworth stepped back onto the walkway and laid her down.

Carson knelt down beside her, running through medical checks without any thought, his experience already telling him that she was unharmed. She had changed more than he had expected. Her face had entirely changed colour, and along her hairline, her hair had begun to grow through a dark blue colour. He also noticed the differences between her and how Colonel Sheppard had looked before, noting the lack of spines and the darker stripes across her skin. He wondered if these were a sexual characteristic, the female alternative to the Colonel's change, or if her Wraith gene had made this change.

All these were tiny details though behind the deep relief and gratitude he felt that she and John had been found before it had been too late.

0000000  
TBC


	11. Return

Infection

Chapter Eleven– Return

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The coffee was disgustingly cold, but Carson only discovered that after he had taken a good mouthful. In fact, was this even his coffee?

Caught between the decision to swallow the gross, possibly someone else's, cold coffee or spit it out, he turned and hurried across the small lab through the far door and spectacularly spat out the mouthful of coffee into the small sink. Muttering and spluttering with amusement at himself, he wiped his mouth and poured away the rest of the cold mug of coffee. He noticed it was his "I Love Scotland" mug, so presumably it had been his coffee, but he hadn't noticed who had made it for him or when. Maybe it had even been from last night.

He rinsed out the mug, set it aside in the small bathroom, and exited back into the lab. To the far right of the lab the only exit stood open, leading out to the main Infirmary, which today was quiet and subdued with the morning's work. Things had been quiet this last week, though there had been a steady flow of follow-ups on the injuries inflicted by Teyla and John. Carson had plenty of work and worries to fill his time though. Jennifer had asked if he would oversee Teyla and John's treatment, which he had gladly taken on, and he had been assigned four nurses to assist him.

Over the past week, he had worked tirelessly overseeing John and Teyla's care, his life slimmed down to this lab and the isolation room once again. He had kept both of them sedated through this first stage of the stem cell treatment, and so far it was going very well, though there had been a few nervous moments. The most significant being when they had realised that there were not enough Iratus stem cells on ice to treat one patient fully, let alone two.

Therefore, the xenobiology department had sent an expedition to an Iratus planet. With the aid of a simulated pheromone, they had successfully entered a bug-infested cave and had collected more stem cells. They had even managed to capture a few live bugs long enough to take some blood samples. The xenobiologists had returned very happy with all the data they had collected, and rather proud of themselves for having survived the Iratus cave, which had been in part due to some serious body armour as much as the pheromone. Carson had been given plenty of stem cells to use, and he had even been able to make a few more adjustments to the treatment as he went along. It pained him to think it, but his experience of Michael's experiments helped him enormously with that refinement. With twice-daily injections of the treatment serum, the changes to John and Teyla were already visible. Twice daily blood tests and scans confirmed that their biology was reverting to normal, and though it was a slow process, he was happy with how everything was going. However, today would be especially important and he was a tad nervous.

"Good afternoon, Dr Beckett," Mr Woolsey's voice surprised Carson away from his study of the latest blood tests.

Carson turned to see the tall smartly presented city commander enter the lab. Mr Woolsey had been visiting the lab twice a day every day and Carson was now used to his presence. At first, Carson had felt that the man was looking over his shoulder, but had soon realised that it was genuine concern for Teyla and John that brought him to Carson's door every day.

"Afternoon?" Carson asked realising what Mr Woolsey had said, and he looked down at his watch to see that indeed it was past twelve. "I should have had that coffee," he muttered.

"Another late night?" Mr Woolsey asked with a smile.

"Aye," Carson replied. "I was working on improving the latest batch of the serum, hoping to speed up the treatment, but I think we've got it as streamlined as we're ever going to get it."

"How's it going?"

Carson turned his chair back towards his computer screen. He and Mr Woolsey had this exact same conversation every day now, twice, and still Carson went through the usual doctor patter. "Good. They're stabilising nicely and physically they are looking slightly more like their old selves. There's still way to go, but I'm happy."

Mr Woolsey nodded. "We never doubted otherwise. So, will today be the day you wake them up?"

Carson glanced to the computer screen again. There was no medical reason to keep them sedated anymore. There was enough change in them for him to happily say they would very soon be back to their old selves, but there was no way to measure their mental acuity or behaviour by blood tests or scans alone. He only had John's behaviour during recovery last time to go on. When they had woken John up that time from his four day long sedation, he had been mostly himself, but prone to shifting moods, irritability, and had needed sedating a couple of times when he had become rather aggressive and difficult. Consequently, Carson had chosen to keep them both sedated for an entire week this time, hoping that some of those more difficult stages might pass. However, he could not in good conscious keep them under any longer, and besides there were medical consequences to keeping them bedridden much longer. It was time to wake them up, but it was a nervous time, for no one had any idea how they would behave once they were awake again.

"Yes, I've already stopped Colonel Sheppard's sedative, he should wake up," Carson checked his watch and did some mental calculation "in about an hour, maybe sooner."

"Why Colonel Sheppard first?" Mr Woolsey asked as he moved back towards the open doorway from which he could see into the isolation room.

"It's safer to wake one of them first and see how they are, and since he has more experience in this, I think he would be best to wake up first," Carson explained. "Plus, Teyla has been the more aggressive out of the two."

Mr Woolsey nodded. "Should we have Ronon down here?"

Carson smiled at him. "He's been here all morning. He wanted to be close by when they wake up, just in case."

Mr Woolsey looked out the door into the Infirmary, frowning as he tried to find Ronon in the relatively empty Infirmary.

"Since there was nothing for him to do while he waited I took the opportunity to persuade him to work with a physio for his knee and shoulder," Carson added still feeling a rather smug at himself for finally having gotten Ronon to work with a physio.

Despite all his past injuries, Ronon had never once allowed any follow-up care for himself other than having stitches removed. However, his injuries last week following the Hive crash had been significant, which had then been compounded further by fighting Teyla, twice. Ronon had been trying to hide his limping all week since, but Carson had noticed and he had used today's waiting game as a means to get Ronon into the physio's room to get some proper follow up care. That Ronon had agreed, very reluctantly, confirmed to Carson that the knee injury in particular was still paining him.

"Well done, Doctor," Mr Woolsey said with a conspiratorial smile. "Kanaan dialled in again from the Athosian camp asking when he could next visit."

Carson had kept visitors away for the most part, only allowing Rodney and Ronon to peer in on their friends a couple of times a day. Kanaan had visited several times over the week, though Carson had made it clear that he was to limit his contact with Teyla just in case the original Wraith infection was still in her system. Carson was convinced it was long gone, but he didn't want to take any risks, with which Kanaan had agreed and had consequently kept Torren away from the city. Even once Teyla was awake, Carson was concerned about her having visitors, and they would need to be especially careful of Torren. As yet, they had no idea how she might behave. Though, this afternoon they would finally find out.

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He felt as if he were lost in a deep dark hole, struggling up from the depths that threatened to pull him back down, but he pushed onwards, up towards the faint promise of light and sound ahead.

Like snapping away from a heavy demanding nightmare, he was abruptly awake, though the heavy weight of sleepiness lingered around him like a thick cloud around his mind. His eyelids were heavy, like wooden doors over his eyes, and he forced them up to see a nondescript ceiling across the room above him. He blinked slowly as he tried to understand what was going on and where he was. Just thinking was an effort right now.

A light burst to life over him, flooding into his nervous system and his mind focused abruptly.

"Colonel?" A familiar voice asked from his left, surprising John further into wakefulness.

He blinked as he tilted his head down to see crisp white sheets over him, and he became aware of the soft mattress under him. The Infirmary?

"Colonel?" The voice asked again and this time John put a name with the voice. He slid his eyes to the left, his head rolling in that direction as well more of its own accord than at his command.

"Car…" His throat dried up before the name got past his unbelievably dry throat. He began coughing to clear it, licking his absurdly dry lips.

"Here," Carson said as a cup of water appeared, a particularly bright straw protruding from it. John moved to lift his hand, only to feel the restraint around his wrist. What the…?

"Wha-?" He began coughing again and decided the water was more important right now.

Carson set the straw against John's lips and John drew in the liquid with delight, abruptly thirsty, and as he swallowed the water, he could feel the extent of his dry throat.

Memories flowed, jumbled and confusing, but enough came together for the picture to be clear.

He pulled back from the straw, resting his head back against soft pillows, as he assessed the situation. He looked at Carson again.

"Déjà vu," John muttered as his greeting. There was a flicker of amusement in his dry voice, but otherwise John felt little more than his heart dropping.

Carson gave him a sympathetic smile as he nodded in reply. "I'm afraid so. How do you feel?"

John assessed himself properly now. The sensations were also disturbingly familiar. He was reclined back in an Infirmary bed, the feel of the sheet under his back far too obvious, which meant that he was wearing one of those proper hospital gowns with no back to it. His body was heavy with a sleepy weight, but there was also discomfort. He had been lying here a long time. Again.

"How long have I been out?" He asked, his throat working better, but his voice still sounding odd.

"A week," Carson replied. "Sorry to keep you out so long, but you understand."

"Sure," John replied nodding, his neck aching with the simple movement.

His whole body felt uncomfortable, and he had the compulsion to stretch out his entire body and get moving around. He could also feel the uncomfortable presence of a catheter and the restraints around his wrists and ankles. There was also an IV running out the back of his right hand and he was really, really, hungry.

"How you feeling?" Carson asked again. There was an assessing, slightly cautious, look to the man's eyes and expression, which was again far too familiar.

John smiled at him. "Not looking to fight my way out of here, if that's what you're worried about." He was far too tired and hungry for that anyway.

Carson smiled down at him. "Just wanted to be sure."

Carson reached down towards John's side and there was a tug at the wrist restraint and suddenly John's arm was free. With a sigh of relief, he pulled it out from under the sheets, rolling his wrist around and twisting his arm to get everything moving. As he did, he couldn't miss the fact that most of his arm was blue. The memories shuffled forward again, out of sequence, more flashes of insight, but he remembered the general story well enough. He bent and twisted his arm, seeing the evidence that the blue was fading, but that his upper arm, disappearing under the gown's sleeve, was much darker and scaly. Great. Just great.

Carson had moved around the end of the bed and was pushing the other side of the sheet back to reveal John's other pinned wrist.

"I'm guessing you're going to prefer if I take this out?" Carson asked as he already set about removing the IV link from the back of John's hand.

John felt a flush of annoyance at the presence of the IV connector in his body, but it was lost within the creepy painful rush of the tiny tube's removal. Carson cleaned the small wound left behind and covered it as John watched in silence. Finally Carson pulled free the wrist restraint and John lifted his arm up to repeat his previous twisting stretching action to get some proper feeling back.

He sat up from the pillows and stretched his back as he stretched his arms out before him. He couldn't help but notice that Carson was standing a little further away than normal. John couldn't blame him.

As he stretched, he compared the differences between his arms. His right hand and wrist were already normal, and the rest of his right arm, though blue, was paler than the left arm. His left arm was significantly darker and the skin scaly up from his elbow. That difference drew forward flashes of memories to explain why. His left arm had changed first, he recalled vaguely, because the bite…

He sat up straighter, looking around the room as he quickly searched and assessed where he was, only now truly taking notice of the space around his bed, which proved to him that the sedatives were still affecting him.

"Teyla?" He asked worried, the memories poured forward with more details. Running after her, the bite, his body changing, more running, catching up with her…

A flush of liverish feeling passed through his body – a hot rush of heat deep inside him contrasted to the cold shocked chill over his skin.

The details obediently arrived from his memory, though again, not quite in the right order he thought, but they were shockingly detailed. Strangely so. It meant that just a single recalled moment felt expanded with intense sharp detail, making it completely impossible to ignore the feelings wrapped up in them, the sensations he had felt, the urges, demands, and desires. He had…she had…

But, where was she?

Was she alright?

He turned in his bed, the restraints around his ankles registering as they held him in place. He looked down towards them hidden under the sheet and heard himself hiss out a noise that had a nurse stood to the left, who he hadn't registered until now, step back worriedly from him.

The burst of aggression and frustration faded slightly at the sight of the nurse's very worried expression.

"It's alright, John," Carson was saying calmly from the right. "Teyla's fine. She's in the next bay."

John looked towards the wall of fabric to his left, the blank sea of white somehow calming, for he recognised it now as one of the curtain screens that could be wheeled around to section of areas of the Infirmary.

He blinked, cold reason returning and, feeling rather like a split personality, he let out a breath.

He turned back towards Carson, who now stood a good foot away.

"There are guards nearby, right?" John demanded.

Carson frowned only lightly. "Yes, two outside the door. At all times."

"Good," John replied as he made himself rest back against the raised head of his bed. The restraints around his ankles niggled at him, making him feel faintly itchy and edgy. He knew he could reach down and release them himself, but he didn't just yet, because he wasn't going to be controlled by these feelings. Maybe it was a good idea to keep himself restrained for a bit longer anyway.

Carson stepped closer and John looked at him with a wash of apology.

"There's even a laser sensor up in the air vent this time," Carson said with a smile as he looked up over his shoulder. John followed his gaze up towards the small wall vent up near the ceiling. He looked around again, finally properly assessing where he was.

"Isolation room?" He asked. Two walls of the room were visible, the one behind his bed and the one to the right, which contained the air vent. The other two directions were blocked with curtain screens.

"Yes, I thought it would give you more privacy this time from the main Infirmary, and some space for you both to move around freely," Carson replied.

John nodded, in complete agreement, as he looked back to the curtain to his left. Teyla would be on the other side then. He strained his hearing, and oddly thought he could faintly hear some breathing from over there. Another sound beyond the bay she would be in, sounded like heavy boots near where the exit to the room would be.

"Is Ronon around?" John asked.

"He's just outside."

John nodded again. "Good." He forced his eyes away from Teyla's hidden direction. He looked back at Carson, then to the far wall vent. "Because I don't think I'll be able to fit through that."

Carson chuckled and John thought he looked slightly more relaxed as he leant against the side of John's bed.

"You need anything?" Carson asked.

Several ideas jumped instantly to mind, one of which included tearing himself free of the ankle restraints and ripping aside the curtain to his left so that he could make sure Teyla really was okay. He squashed the dramatic reaction, and then realised that he had a tight grip of the edges of the bed, as he held himself still. The impulse faded almost as quickly as it had appeared. He made himself release the bed and laid his head back into the pillow, purposefully turning his thoughts elsewhere.

"Did we hurt anyone seriously?" He asked. He remembered fighting people, people he knew now, but at the time hadn't seen as anything other than enemies wishing to hurt her.

"No, at worst a few broken bones," Carson reassured him.

John winced at that, remembering injuries and the sound of snapping bone, but he was pretty sure that had been Teyla's doing, not his. He glanced back round to the curtain.

"She's alright," Carson said softly. "There's no sign of the original infection returning and her treatment is going as well as yours. In fact, her treatment's a little ahead of yours since she was in a more advanced stage and I didn't think you would mind that I treated her first."

John looked back up at him, shaking his head. "The Wraith infection has gone though, right?" He asked for confirmation.

"So far yes, and I doubt there was any of it left in her system even before she escaped from here."

John's gaze slid to the high small vent again. Flashes of images assaulted him.

"You hungry?" Carson asked.

John snapped his eyes to him. "Starving," he replied with sudden desperation.

Carson chuckled as he moved back around the bed. "I'll get some food sent up for you. Though, it'll be simple food like last time."

John nodded and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Doc."

"There are quite a few people who want to drop in a see how you're doing, but I'm going to hold them off for a couple of days yet. But, Ronon and Rodney would like to poke their heads in later if that's alright?" Carson asked.

"Sure," John replied feeling the abrupt eagerness to see his friends again. He glanced back in Teyla's direction. "Teyla awake yet?" He asked, hoping his tone hadn't given away too much.

"She should wake up in the next couple of hours. You'll both probably be very tired for the next day or so, but you're free to move around the room. There's a nursing station set up just inside the door and we've formed a curtained off area just outside that leads to the bathroom in the lab next door that you can use. There's a shower in there, and I've put out scrubs for you to wear."

"And a guard just outside the door," John added.

Carson nodded with a smile. "I'll leave you to rest and we'll bring in your lunch when it arrives."

John nodded. "Thanks, Carson."

Another smile and Carson and the nurse disappeared between the curtains.

John took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could do with getting up off the bed and stretching out his body, but he didn't really trust himself to take off the restraints just yet.

Swirling conflicting feelings were playing out in him, part of him feeling already frustratingly confined by the walls around him, even if two of them were just curtains. It wasn't helped by the fact that he could remember the excruciating long weeks last time in which he had been forced to stay in the Infirmary during his treatment. He had hated it, and just the prospect of having to go through all that again made him feel grumpy already.

His thoughts felt slightly slower than normal as well, which worried and annoyed him faintly, but that was probably because of the sedative still in his system. He wondered if it would be better if Carson just kept him sedated through all the treatment, then he could just wake up in a couple of weeks and be able to get out of here. No, actually he didn't like that idea either – being sedated like an animal.

He circled his feet, feeling the restraints around his ankles, and then moved his legs around as much as he could under the sheet to ease the stiffness in his muscles. His butt ached from having been lying on it unmoving for a week. He desperately wanted to get up and moving. He remembered the thrill of running with the superhuman speed and strength he had possessed. He glanced down at his blue arms and wondered if he still had any superhuman skill left. For a moment, he considered getting out of here, to run out along the piers again. He could come into the Infirmary for his anti-retrovirus shots every day, but he could be free. Teyla would be as well.

He looked round to the separating curtain and wondered if she was restrained as well. That annoyed him. To think to of her being held down and unable to get up if she wanted to.

He closed his eyes and pressed the back of his head back into the pillow. He took a calming breath.

"Ronon?" He called out, knowing his friend would hear him even from the doorway.

There was a shifting of boots across the floor, which was more noise than the big guy usually made, and John watched as Ronon's tanned shoulder appeared between the curtains.

"Hey," John greeted him with a smile.

"How you doing?" Ronon asked as he moved properly into the curtained space around John's bed, his smile wide, but his eyes were cautious.

"Not too bad," John replied, keeping himself still against the mattress. He felt better that Ronon was here, that the stunner was close by and that Ronon wouldn't hesitate to use it if necessary. It made John relax a little bit more.

"Thanks for the stunning and sorry if…I hurt you or anything," John started, finding the apology faintly amusing all of a sudden.

"Not a scratch," Ronon replied instantly and slightly smugly John thought.

"Damn it," John muttered.

Ronon smiled at that as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Teyla got you good though," John added with smugness of his own. "A couple of times, wasn't it?"

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The stillness of the room deepened the shame washing through her, as she vividly recalled the sounds of snapping arms, noses, and jaws. She had caused so much damage, and they had only been trying to help her. She had fought those who had been struggling to rescue her.

The shame burned intensely in her throat as she closed her eyes and dropped her head.

She remembered thinking otherwise. Their constantly close presence haunting her, like how as a child she had feared shadows in the forest were following her, as if Wraith were hunting her. She had felt hunted running through the city and she had reacted out of pure instinct in response to the threat she had thought was there.

"No one was seriously hurt, I promise you, Teyla," Carson assured her again, his voice soft and kind. There had been caution and concern in his voice initially as she had woken. Woken into a world that was both familiar and different. Her thoughts felt sluggish, though likely from the sedatives that had kept her in this bed so long.

That limitation had resulted in her body feeling weakened, cramped, and unresponsive. She sat up on the soft mattress and stretched her back, dropping her head back and she circled her neck. The deep tense muscular ache easing slightly.

Carson had freed her hands and feet already, but had seemed reluctant to let her immediately up from the bed. She had to move though, had to get up and feel the differences in her body, to know that she was not as she had been. Already the discomfort she felt was in stark contrast to how powerful and in control she had felt during her 'change'.

She turned her body, sliding her uncooperative legs over to the side of the bed, blood rushing down to her feet as she draped them over the edge. Across the small space, a nurse sat at a desk near the door, her eyes watchful.

Teyla set her fists against the mattress and shifted herself further towards the edge, but as she did, a sharp pain burned in her left shoulder.

"Your shoulder hurt?" Carson asked, his hand against her upper back.

She nodded as the pain receded, turning to look down at the painful area covered by the thin layer of material. She reached across, with her blue hand, to pull up the gown's sleeve and revealed her scaly shoulder.

"You fell onto it when you were stunned. There's no serious damage, but it's been tough to see how bruised it is," Carson said and she could see why. Her skin was paler than she had expected, which was presumably the treatment at work, but her shoulder displayed thicker skin, and a particularly dark stripe down to her upper arm. She ran her fingers down the line of the stripe, curious at the difference to her look compared to how John had looked before.

She turned, looking over her shoulder towards the wall of curtains behind her, on the other side of which John's bed was located.

"He's fine. He woke up earlier, ate a massive meal that even Rodney would have difficulty getting down, and then fell back to sleep," Carson reported with amusement.

Teyla frowned at the curtain, slips of memory surfacing, like bubbles of air rising up through water to break abruptly at the surface, releasing new information in its entirely. She closed her eyes against the rush of memories and the resulting rising heat in her body.

"You alright?" Carson asked softly.

Teyla opened her eyes and looked back round to him. She prayed that the blue tone to her skin would hide the blush she could feel across her cheeks.

"Just…" She tried, but her thoughts washed with tiredness again and her heart weighed with regret and shame at what she had done. Not only had she harmed so many, but also she had purposefully infected John with the retrovirus. She recalled that intention clearly, though it had been a more vague understanding at the time. She had wished him to be like her. She had caused so much damage.

"You can't blame yourself for anything you did, Teyla," Carson said. "You weren't yourself."

She glanced up at his face. He stood very close, too close really, for she felt the desire to push him away to give her more space. A flush of annoyance surged through her at his hovering near her, his suspicion clear.

She closed her eyes and drew in a breath. This was Carson, he was her friend and he only wished to help her. He was a kind and gentle man.

His hand touched against the back of her shoulder again. "You mustn't blame yourself," he repeated. "No one blames you for what you did. You didn't blame Colonel Sheppard for anything he did last time did you?"

She remembered that she had judged John's previous behaviour to be purely due to the retrovirus. His kiss in the gym had been a by-product of his illness, and she had not read anything into that action since. That it had in fact altered much between them afterwards had worried her. Their sparring sessions had stopped, still to this day, and she had felt the shift to their friendship. Nothing had changed though, no deepening of feelings, no requests for more than friendship despite the passion with which he had kissed her that time. It had been purely due to the retrovirus and nothing more. So, she had moved on.

Kanaan.

To think of him made her feel guilty again, but for more than the very obvious reason why she would have to apologise to him.

She closed her eyes, strange mixed emotions swirling through her tired mind. She sought through her disjointed memories, but she could not remember thinking of Kanaan. She had remembered Torren, had felt anger and desperation at being unable to find her son.

"Where is Torren?" She asked Carson.

She wished desperately to hold her son, to feel his purity. Her love for her son was so real and uncomplicated, and she missed him with an aching burn to her eyes.

"He's off world with Kanaan and your people. Until we know for sure that the original Wraith infection is completely gone, it's best to keep Torren away from you," Carson replied.

She frowned at Carson's strange tone; his words had been carefully delivered as if he feared she could not understand the importance of protecting her son. She pressed down her annoyance at him as she nodded her head.

"That is wise," she replied, though being denied holding her child created a sharp aching pain in the middle of her chest. She would see him very soon, she was sure, when she was well again. She had to get well first.

She pushed off the side of the bed, the floor cold under the soles of her feet. Her legs wavered with weakness and she gripped tightly onto the edge of the bed behind her. The nurse rushed across the room to help, and Carson shifted moving around Teyla to stand on her left, his hand around her arm and the nurse reached towards Teyla's right arm.

Teyla tensed, their sudden flanking presence triggering her adrenaline and she pulled away from them. She shook off Carson's hand around her arm, stepping threateningly towards him as she tensed up her other arm, ready to lash out if he attempted to grab her again.

Carson stepped back away from her, his hands lifting, his palms showing. Teyla snapped her attention to the nurse, who had backed right off, her eyes wide.

With space around her again, Teyla relaxed slightly and awareness, slipping through the sudden aggression, began to return. She blinked hurriedly as Carson began speaking calmly.

"I'm sorry, that was my fault," he said, but as she glanced to him again, she realised he was only partly speaking to her.

She suddenly felt other eyes in the room and she looked sharply over her shoulder.

John stood in a break between the curtains separating their beds.

His face was faintly blue, though his chin and neck were far darker. His eyes looked human, but they were fixed on Carson with a directness that was unlike him normally. She had seen the direct look before though, and the memories of how he had looked at her rushed forward – his eyes meeting hers as he had sought to help her, then after he had helped her fight off attack, and then his stare had been filled with nothing but pure sexual interest. They had not been human eyes though, but alien, Wraith-like eyes, yet she remembered how their stare had affected her and how she had returned it.

His eyes shifted from Carson and met hers, and she saw his own recollection in his eyes. He blinked and she saw his rational thoughts return, the subtle shifts to his expression clear to her even when his skin was so altered still.

He remembered as clearly as she did.

The flush of warmth that rose to her cheeks was another splash of reality on her senses.

She turned away, back to Carson and she forced herself to relax, to be calm.

"No, I am sorry, Carson," she told him. "You only wanted to assist me. I apologise," she told him with a smile. "You both took me by surprise. That is all." She smiled over to the nurse as well, whose name she recalled was Sally.

Sally smiled back, with clear relief. "I'm sorry too, I just wanted to make sure your gown was secured," she said with a quieter pointed tone.

The reason for that pointed and lowered tone registered in Teyla's mind as important, but it took her a moment to realise what it meant. It was then that she registered the air against her naked back through the open back of her medical gown, which was swiftly followed by the realisation that she was standing with her back to John.

Embarrassment sweeping though her, she turned immediately so that her back faced the wall behind the head of her bed. She reached back to find the ties that would hold the gown closed, and oddly at such a time, she found herself wondering whether her backside was still blue.

It was perhaps foolish to worry about John seeing any part of her naked, for he had seen plenty already. He had held her backside in his hands as they had…

She steered her thoughts away from the hot wild images and sensations that began to echo through her body to think of what they had shared.

She glanced over towards where he stood, only to see that he had already disappeared back behind the curtains and she was deeply grateful for that.

Sally moved forward, slowly this time, and she helped Teyla tie up the back of the gown securely.

"There's a change of clothes in the bathroom for you, so you won't have to put up with this thing anymore," Sally informed her, her manner now back to the smooth efficiency of a nurse.

Teyla appreciated the words, and her woman's presence no longer felt too close.

"I'll leave Sally to show you the way to the bathroom, and while you're gone I'll put in an order for some food," Carson told her with a smile, though she could see that some of his caution remained.

"Thank you, Carson," Teyla replied, smiling at him hoping he understood that she had not wished to him any harm just now. She truly was not herself.

"Shall we go?" Sally offered, extending her hand towards the isolation room's exit, outside of which curtains blocked the view of the Infirmary beyond.

Teyla moved forward, her legs a little shaky still, but it felt very good to be moving properly again. As she reached the exit, she glanced to the right, through the small gap that led through to John's space, and she saw the shape of him just inside, stood at the end of his bed. He looked round at her, and though some of his expression was lost in the shadow cast by the curtain in front of him, she saw his careful smile. She smiled in return.

Before she could think of any details of what they had shared, she looked away.

She turned her attention to carefully making her way out of the isolation room into the curtained space outside that led off to the left, along the Infirmary wall to a doorway to another room set off the Infirmary. Teyla made her way down the curtained corridor, Sally just behind her, the sounds of the Infirmary loud on the other side of the screens.

The room ahead of them was a lab and inside a doorway to the left led through to a washroom. As Teyla entered, Sally on her heels still, the lights flickered to life, shining off a mirror set on the wall over the washbasin.

Teyla paused as her blue coloured face stared back at her. The centre of her forehead was the palest area leading down around her eyes and her nose. Her eyebrows, cheekbones and her jaw were all a darker shade of blue. Her neck was a stronger blue, dark stripes reaching around her throat. She moved towards the reflection as she reached up to her neck, running her fingers against her altered skin. It felt rougher than normal, especially against her softer fingertips. The sensation of her fingertips on her throat felt dull, as if the thick scaly skin were a barricade to her sensitivity beneath.

John's touch had not felt dull. Her skin had felt alive with sensation, sensitive to every nail edge and rounded fingertip that had run down her body.

That her skin no longer felt as overtly sensitive as before, told her plainly that inside she was changing, returning to normal, and that brought great relief to her.

She moved slightly closer to the mirror pleased to confirm that her eyes were human again. There were still the faintest hints of dark strips running out from her hairline at her temples, and she leant even closer to the mirror as she ran her fingers up into her hair. There was a thin dark band of dark blue hair just up from her hairline. Her normal hair colour had begun to grow through again over the last week, but the thin band of blue remained.

Behind her Sally shifted forward, her image appearing in the mirror beside Teyla. "You could dye it, but it will grow out eventually," she suggested.

Teyla nodded. She was not vain, but the band of colour looked very strange. She used to colour her hair with a natural plant extract back on Old Athos, so perhaps it was time to alter her colour again, but she suspected that it would take a very strong dye to cover the dark blue. Perhaps she should turn her hair darker. Frowning at herself, she turned from the mirror, then paused looking over her shoulder to see that her back, just visible through the ties closing her gown, was indeed still blue down to her waist, but that her backside itself was only faintly blue, barely noticeable.

"There's soap in the shower and some nice shampoo," Sally said with a bright conversational tone. "Clean towels are over there, with a comb, and a change of clothes. Take your time. I'll be just outside if you need me."

"Thank you," Teyla replied as Sally left.

Finally alone, Teyla took a breath and set about removing the medical gown. She dumped it on the side and moved into the shower.

She could tell immediately from the dampness in the air that someone had used it very recently, and the scent in the air, that she really shouldn't be able to detect so strongly, told her that it had been John.

She drew in the scent of him, mixed with soap and the natural scent of clean male skin. Just inhaling his scent before had been so powerful, and though it was not as dramatic as before, she felt that reaction again. To know that he had stood here, naked, and washed himself clean...

She shook her head at herself. She was not normally so inclined to these fanciful thoughts. As she reached for the bar of soap, trying to ignore the fact that he had been the last to use it, she admitted to herself that John had been the subject of many fantasies in the past. Over the last year though, she had been very successful in repressing those and being contented and happy with her status of friendship with John. Kanaan's presence in her life…she realised that yet again she had forgotten Kanaan again in all of this. She paused in soaping down her strange alien skin, as she considered what she would need to say to him when he visited her.

She could not tell him that she had all but forgotten him during her change. However, that she had, was that not significant in some way? Why had she not thought of him?

Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he had been spending so much time with their people of late, and that their time together had been stretched thin with caring for Torren and the early and late calls that interrupted any time they had spent together.

Kanaan had been absent and John had been there, and as the subject of much yearning before, she had focused her attention on him. She had then made sure that he would be like her by infecting him with the retrovirus, and he in turn had…wanted her as well.

She understood where her motivation had come from, but what of his? Perhaps the retrovirus affected men differently? Or was it that her already present feelings for him had masked the retrovirus instinctual reaction that John had been compelled by? Would she have reacted the same way if another man had been infected instead?

She rinsed out her hair, running her fingers through it to untangle the locks and to distract herself with the task. Her mind was working faster now, the artificial feeling of the sedatives less apparent, though she still felt deeply tired. It was a natural tiredness though, a more honest one compared to the thick heaviness of the sedatives.

She shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, reaching for one of the dry towels that hung beside the damp ones that John had left behind. She reached out towards his towels without thinking, her hand touching against them before she caught herself and withdrew her hand.

He had touched her, but she had also touched him. Most intimately. Warmth filled her cheeks again to think of what they had shared.

She pulled a dry towel free and wrapped it around herself, drying herself as she worked to keep her thoughts from returning to those passionate experiences.

She recalled that John had barely ever spoken about his last experience with the retrovirus, and now she understood why. It had been an overwhelming experience for her, which had altered her in a way that driven her to act from basic instincts and she had been powerful enough to cause havoc as she had acted from those instincts. Now she understood how he had felt before, now she shared the shame and regret that he had felt, only this time, she had forced it upon him again.

She owned him an apology, but feared that there were not words enough. She would find them though and she would make sure to offer her apology as soon as possible.

Dry, she reached for the folded medical scrubs, finding a full packet of new white underwear with them. She pulled on a pair and then pulled on the crisp clean scrubs. The scent of them was a little strong to her nose, but she was grateful for anything to wear besides the gown.

Clean and more comfortable, though her body further worn out from moving around more than she had in a week, she paused. She was alone in here and it appealed to her. The temptation to find a way out of the Infirmary was sudden and surprised her. She knew that she would have to remain in the isolation room for weeks to come, restricted and isolated away, poked and prodded through her treatment, and it made her feel frustrated and resistant to returning to her prison.

She closed her eyes and just breathed. Techniques she had used for most of her life fell into play, helping her to focus herself and find calm in a way that she had been completely incapable of during her change. It was the retrovirus that made her feel so angry and sensitive right now. She would get better and with each passing day she would become more like herself. She just needed time to heal, and being in the isolation room was necessary for her to be treated effectively. It was a necessary restriction.

She opened her eyes, having gathered herself, to hear the soft sounds of someone moving outside the door. Sally would be getting concerned.

Controlling her frustration again, Teyla headed towards the door.

She would get better.

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TBC


	12. Apology

Infection

Chapter Twelve - Apology

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With Nurse Sally following, Teyla left the lab and headed back down the narrow slip of curtained off corridor towards the isolation room. As she walked, she could feel the wavering strength in her legs, and the prospect of returning to her bed had sudden appeal.

On the other side of the curtains, Teyla could hear the normal chatter of the Infirmary, though closer she heard the shift of heavy boots. She paused as she caught the faint earthy scent that told her that Ronon was on the other side of the curtains. He was here, watching over her and John as they woke up. To know that he was near by if they needed him, that the protection of his stunner was available for others, she felt herself relax further, only to then recall in vivid detail fighting against him. On two occasions, she had beaten him to the floor. The shame rushed through her again and with it the desperate need to see her friend, to see that he was unharmed and to offer her apologies to him.

She moved down the line of curtains, seeking out where he stood, listening intently for the sounds of his breathing. "Ronon?" She called gently.

"I'm here," he replied instantly from the other side of the curtain. His steps moved away down the line of the curtains to where he could get through. She moved forward to meet him, Sally right on her heels, as he pushed one section of curtains aside and he stepped through.

Joy at seeing him, and the grin he gave her, was instantly swamped by the sight of the large dark bruise across his left cheekbone. As she approached him, the regret and distress poured through her. It was one thing to exchange strikes whilst sparing, but quite another to viciously attack her friend who had only been trying to save her.

"I am so sorry, Ronon," she told him, but as she reached him he cut off any further apology as he carefully pulled her into his bear hug of an embrace. That he would be so willing to hug her, whilst she still could potentially be a threat, warmed her greatly. She understood his sign of trust.

He felt strong and unharmed. She absorbed the love she felt for her friend, so glad that she was once again able to remember that, and touched by the love she felt returned.

"I am sorry," she repeated and his arms loosened around her.

"Wasn't your fault," he stated as if were an unquestionable fact.

She inclined her head, honoured by the ease with which he took her apology, but it did not lessen her own regret at harming her good friend. He may brush it aside, but she could remember hurting him, targeting his already injured side, and that twice she had sent him into unconsciousness. That she had been capable of treating him so aggressively worried her. She had not thought herself capable of such an act before now.

"How about we get back inside the room," Sally suggested quietly from behind Teyla's shoulder.

Teyla wondered if it was that her distress was obvious to them, or that both of them could see she was leaning much of her weight against Ronon's supportive hands resting on her upper arms. She was tired, deeply so. Therefore, she nodded her agreement and moved forward towards the isolation room, moving ahead of both Sally and Ronon, walking purposefully without support and of her own choice back towards her bed.

As she climbed up onto her comfortable bed, she glanced back to see that Ronon had followed her into the room and that Sally had retreated to her desk.

"Shame I didn't get a chance to win against him for once," John's voice drifted in from the other side of the curtain and Teyla smiled round towards the wall of white, glad to hear his voice and the amused chagrin in his tone. The normalcy of the playfulness among their team had always been a source of amusement to her, but now its return appealed more than ever.

She settled back on her bed and watched as Ronon leant into the gap between the curtains into John's space beyond. "You missed your only chance," Ronon told John with a clear grin in his voice. "McKay's going to visit you later."

John muttered something that was likely a curse, but Teyla knew that he, like her, would be more than happy to see their friend, to welcome the prospect of their normal life again.

"He'll bring loads of board games like last time," John complained from behind the wall of curtain. "He's such a sore loser. Tell him to bring a laptop and movies, anything but board games."

Teyla smiled as she arranged her pillows, as she knew without a doubt that there would be board games arriving later. If Rodney had not planned on bringing them before, he would after hearing John's complaint.

She looked over towards John's voice and instantly wanted the curtains gone. Much had occurred between her and John last week, issues that she would have to deal with, but she would not allow it to risk her friendship with him. She would not hide away from what had happened, would not allow embarrassment to win out over the both of them.

"Ronon, would you push back the curtains?" She asked him, indicating the wall between her and John's bed. "If that is alright, John?" She added to the air, but Ronon already had his hands on the end of the curtain and was pushing it back, moving forward between her and John's bed as he did.

"Sure," John replied and she wondered if she had truly heard relief in his voice.

As the curtains pushed back ahead of Ronon, John's bed was gradually revealed; firstly, his bare feet set on top of the bed, which were his normal colour, and then the length of his legs, covered in the same white scrubs as she wore. Then his raised knees, on which were set his forearms, which she saw were both blue, though noticeable less so on the right side. Her bite had been on his left side. She swiftly steered her thoughts from that memory.

She looked to Ronon instead as he pushed the last of the curtain aside, and then around the opened space between her and John's bed. She noticed for the first time that there was a square metal table set between their beds, creating a sitting area for them to use. Ronon moved away again, revealing all of the bed immediately to her right, and she made herself look straight over at John.

John's attention was on Ronon moving out the way and once he was down the length of the bed, John's gaze shifted to meet hers. He smiled at her immediately, but again there was a carefulness to his expression that told her that he felt much as she did. The blue tone and faintly thicker skin made his expression not quite as easy to read as normal, but she could see that he too felt caution, confusion, and perhaps a good helping of embarrassment as well. Or was she projecting what she wished to see?

He blinked and looked down and to the side, the emotional discomfort so like his normal behaviour that it burst relief through her chest, along with a good amount of affection.

She looked down and away as well, remembering Ronon's presence. She looked down the length of the beds to see that Ronon was looking away out the door anyway. The curtain sections parted and Carson appeared, a tray of food in his hand. She sat up tall in response, her hungry suddenly blazing, her stomach grumbling and achy.

The tray moved closer as Carson moved around the left side of her bed.

"Hungry I take it?" He asked with an amused voice as a table slid over the top of her bed and the tray was placed down in front of her.

She roughly pushed away the tray's cover to reveal the food beneath. She barely held herself back to pick up the knife and fork before she drove into the food.

It was simple, plain food, but it was perfect, tasted delicious and she ate with a rushed desperation.

"Take your time," Carson's voice registered. "You haven't eaten for a long time, even before the retrovirus." She acknowledged his point, but it barely slowed her down.

There was talking around her, but she was too interested in scraping up the last crumbs of the boiled potatoes and using the last carrots to gather up the remaining thin pool of gravy from a corner of the tray section. It all tasted wonderful, satisfying in a deep way that pleased her and made her feel more energised than before. Her stomach ached with the food, but it did not matter as she turned on her pudding. It was a selection of fruit and she tore the cover away and ate the contents in two scoops of her spoon. She began scrapping out the remaining jelly, feeling dissatisfied with the end of her meal.

"She needs more than that," John's voice registered among the conversation, and perhaps it had been the tone he had used as much as what he had said that drew her attention.

She looked up from her tray for the first time, her plastic cup now empty of fruit in her hand to see all three men were watching her. Ronon was sat on a metal chair near the end of John's bed, Carson stood beside him, his hands deep in his white coat's pockets.

"I don't want you to overdo it," Carson told her kindly. "Dinner's in a few hours, so don't worry there'll be more food." He smiled at her, but she frowned at his words.

"She needs more _now_," John stated plainly.

A part of her worriedly noted the implied aggression in John's voice, but the louder hungry part of her felt a flare of approval. It suddenly felt that she and John were a united front, their combined will filling the room as she stared at Carson and waited for him to listen.

Carson's expression was cautious, the weakness of his worry clear, as his gaze moved from her to John and back.

"You gave me more," John added, his tone now different, calmer, and more reasonable.

Carson paused only a moment. "Sally, would you see if there's any food left outside. Maybe someone didn't want their fruit cup."

Teyla slid her gaze over to Sally who moved away, rather cautiously, out of the door and disappeared through the curtains. Teyla caught a brief glimpse of the Infirmary beyond, and in the distance the main exit. The way out of here.

She stared at the distant promise of freedom, only for someone to suddenly block her view. She frowned at the physical intrusion, blinked and then she recognised whom it was that was approaching.

"Hey," Rodney announced brightly as he stepped through the curtain gap and into the isolation room.

A rush of rational thought and a fresh burst of embarrassment rushed through Teyla, only to be pushed aside by the sudden delight in seeing Rodney. She grinned back at him as he entered.

"It is good to see, Rodney," she told him happily.

"It's good to see you both so…" Rodney replied looking over towards John and back to her "Umm…not so blue," he concluded a little weakly, but she only smiled wider. It was so good to see him.

Rodney stopped at the end of her bed and glanced over at Carson and Ronon. "What?" He asked.

Teyla looked over at them as well, registering their tension and that Ronon's eyes were on John with a caution that had her narrowing her eyes at Ronon in turn.

"What you got there, Rodney?" Carson asked with what sounded like forced cheerfulness.

Teyla looked back to Rodney, having noticed the box he was carrying, but only now actually interested in it.

Rodney moved to the metal table between her and John, setting one side of the box on it as he reached inside. Beyond him, Ronon stood up. The move was casually done, but Teyla noticed it for what it was and she tensed. He was glancing at John again, so she kept her eyes on him.

"I remembered last time, so I brought some movies, books, Sheppard's laptop, cards, and some board games," Rodney reported brightly, as he set each object down on the table.

John groaned at the mention of the board games and Teyla smiled over at him.

"I'm not playing Pictionary with you again," John told Rodney, with nothing but amused relaxation in his voice.

"Teyla'll enjoy it," Rodney objected as he put the three flat boxes down on the table. Teyla leant forward to see the sides. Pictionary, Monopoly, and a chess set.

Movement at the exit drew Teyla's attention and Sally entered with two fruit cups and a plate of toast. Teyla smiled at her as Sally approached and set them down on the far edge of the table.

"The toast hasn't been touched, but it might be cold," Sally reported.

"Thank you," Teyla replied eagerly reaching for the extra food.

"Ooo, fruit cups," Rodney said with interest.

"_Don't_ touch them, Rodney," Carson snapped tensely through clenched teeth. Teyla glanced up as she munched on her toast to see that both Ronon and Carson were pulling Rodney back towards a free seat, down the far end of the beds.

"What?" Rodney complained as he sat down. "I wasn't going to take one," he protested quietly to Carson and Ronon.

"Sure you weren't," John replied with amusement. "You ate Torren's last cookie just the other week."

"He'd left it and said he didn't want it," Rodney protested.

"He can't talk, Rodney," Carson entered into the teasing.

"He understood the question," Rodney argued.

"Actually taking candy from babies. Honestly, Rodney," Carson said.

"He didn't want it. So, you two look okay to me," Rodney stated, turning the conversation away from him.

"Thanks, Rodney," John replied.

Teyla turned her attention down to pulling open the first fruit cup and delving in with her spoon.

"So, what we miss?" John asked.

Teyla listened to Rodney's report, which focused more on complaints than necessary, but that was Rodney. She smiled up at him as she scraped the last fruit cup empty. It seemed that little had happened in the last week, besides Dr Zelenka annoying Rodney.

"It's mostly all been about you two," Rodney added.

Teyla snapped her eyes up to him, freezing still for a moment with horror that everyone knew what had happened between her and John.

"They'll all comparing bruises and broken bones. It's so caveman, it's pathetic," Rodney muttered.

Teyla relaxed, he had not meant what she had thought he had. She glanced over at John and then quickly back down to her entirely empty pudding cup. She set it down, her stomach felt fuller now, more comfortable. She pressed her blue fingers to the few remaining toast crumbs on the plate. She licked her fingertips clean of the crumbs before she registered what Rodney had said.

"Comparing injuries?" She asked with surprise.

Rodney looked round at her. "Sure, they'll all 'Well, Teyla broke all my left arm not just a couple of fingers'."

Teyla felt the shame return, the chill of regret battling against the warmth of embarrassment.

"And of course, no one's letting Lorne forget that he got stunned twice by Ronon's stunner," Rodney added, chuckling.

Teyla instantly remembered when she had been to blame. She could remember the tight grip of Lorne's wrist she had used to turn the direction of the stunner, teasing on the edge of snapping the bones before the stunner had engulfed him in its numbing energy. She dropped her eyes down to her white scrubs, remembering that fight with sharp clarity.

"Okay, Rodney, I think they've had enough of visitors for now," Carson interrupted.

"But, I just got here and the Pictionary-"

"It's a little too soon for board games, and they need to rest," Carson replied.

Teyla glanced up at them to see all three of the men were moving across the isolation room, Ronon's hand on Rodney's back assisting him forward.

"You can visit again tomorrow," Carson added.

Teyla watched Rodney's retreating back, struggling through her inner conflicting feelings to focus on pleasantries.

"I will look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Rodney, Ronon," she called to them and they gave her smiles in return. "Thank you for the board games, Rodney," she added.

"Jennifer picked out those books for you," Rodney added from the exit. "She said she'd visit tomorrow."

"Thank her for me," Teyla replied.

Rodney disappeared through the curtains and Ronon looked back with a smile and nod. She inclined her head in return and he too disappeared from view. Carson remained just inside the doorway.

"I'll leave you two to rest. If you need anything, just ask Sally," he indicated the Nurse's station just inside the door. "I'll make sure to bring extra portions for your dinner."

Teyla smiled at him, regretful yet again at her behaviour, but he just smiled and disappeared.

The isolation room was abruptly quiet and she hated it for a moment, before then sliding her eyes to where Sally sat. The nurse's presence suddenly felt intrusive and Teyla frowned at her. There was a curtain section that could be pulled over to block the Nurse's view, but Sally would still in be their space.

Teyla fought against the resentment, and tried once again to deal with her growing number of regrets.

"You can't blame yourself, Teyla," John said into the quiet, his voice soft and pitched low so as not to carry too far.

She turned and looked over at him, aware that they were mostly alone together for the first time. Suddenly Sally's presence didn't feel as intrusive as before, but then again, Teyla did not want to discuss anything personal with someone else in earshot. That was if the personal discussion was to be had, since she suspected John would wish to avoid it.

She still met his eyes for a moment and tried to take on what he advised. He understood the situation well enough, from experience as well as the present.

"I hurt a lot of people," she said.

"It wasn't your fault," John argued immediately. "Lorne's a big boy," he added to make her smile.

She smiled, but it turned into a wince. "I think he would rather have been injured than stunned."

"Twice," John added with amusement in his voice.

She tried to control her own amusement, knowing that it had been a serious matter, but it was different in retrospect. "We must apologise to him," she said. "I have a lot of apologies to make," she added thoughtfully.

"Everyone understands, Teyla," John replied. "You weren't yourself. Neither of us were."

"I remember it all so clearly," she added, her attention wandering into those memories. "Hurting people, the aggression I felt. I wanted to stop them, to hurt them, and I did."

"It wasn't your fault," John repeated insistently and she heard him move on his bed. She looked round at him to see that he was sat on the side of his bed facing her, his expression intent. "It was because of the retrovirus, it'll make you do things you'd _never_ normally do…"

His voice trailed off and she felt the stab of the deeper meaning of his words, as perhaps he did as well. The retrovirus had affected him as strongly and he said that it had made him do things he would never normally do – like his behaviour towards her and what they had shared.

The deep ache inside her at that knowledge was strangely painful. A rejection that she had not expected to feel, since of course the retrovirus had made them act abnormally. She should be happy that he understood that their behaviour had been due to the circumstances, but a part of her had secretly celebrated in what had happened. That part of her, an old yearning, was to be squashed again.

He was right of course. It was the best answer to focus on, allowing them to move on, for her to address the situation with Kanaan and for her friendship with John to continue.

She needed to take the opportunity and she would. Clearly, her emotions were up and sensitive at present, and again maybe that was entirely due to the retrovirus.

She looked round at John again. His gaze was down, his discomfort plain, and she suddenly needed to make sure that he could have resolution to this. If she had lingering questions about her behaviour last week, that was her issue, not his.

She made herself smile.

"Yes, the retrovirus," she agreed, with difficultly.

He looked up at her from under his brow, the dark shadows of his blue face making his expression seemed more pronounced. His eyes held a sharp intensity for a moment, his hands gripping the edge of the bed on which he sat. She met his gaze, making herself agree to this, after all she had to admit that the retrovirus had made her act unlike herself against the others, so it had done the same to John. They had to forgive themselves for all they had done and move on.

He blinked, his eyes dropping briefly and then lifting to meet hers again. He nodded. "Yeah."

She nodded in return, managing to smile at him again before she had to look away.

"I still have many apologies to make," she said. "Despite my actions not having been clearly my own." She pushed aside the tray and table from over her bed, and reached for her sheets, pulling them up over her again, putting far too much attention in the act.

She leant back against the lifted back of her bed and looked round at him again. "I am sorry that you had to go through that again. That I…forced it upon you."

The memories of biting him flooded her thoughts and her body felt suddenly hot and achy in places where she shouldn't. She forced her thoughts to the details of the cruelty of her act instead, working to shame the other thoughts away. She had bitten him, hurt him and infected him.

"That wasn't your fault either, Teyla," John replied, his voice very low now, almost reluctant.

That explanation again and she instantly hated it, felt her upper lip curl in distaste at it though it helped her deal with her cruel treatment of others.

"Still, I am sorry, John," she stated again, looking round at him.

He have her another short smile, that she suspected was purely for her benefit, before he looked away sharply.

"It was kind of my fault, anyway," he said, "since the whole retrovirus plan was my idea." His tone was forcefully conversational as he turned and swung his legs back onto his bed.

"A plan that saved my life," she added softly.

He settled back against the head of the bed and looked round at her. "Totally worth it then," he concluded simply.

Deeply touched at his conclusion to the entire event, she smiled and had to look away again. Her heart felt full yet also tired of the conflicting emotions.

"Course, we've still got weeks stuck in here," he added as he shifted his body on the bed, seeming faintly restless as he crossed his ankles and then uncrossed them, seeking out a comfortable position.

"We have board games," she replied as she laid her head right back into her pillow.

He looked round at her with a narrowed eyed look and she chuckled at him.

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John lay on his bed, the sheets all pushed aside since their clingy presence had been annoying him.

It was night.

He could feel that it was, deep inside him somehow, even without the clues of the lights being dimmed and the Infirmary quiet beyond the isolation room's only exit. The air was still, quiet in a way that was heavy and comforting. It made him think of the dark, warm, crawl space he and Teyla had found. Thinking of that didn't help the restlessness that was itching through his body.

He shifted his back against the Infirmary bed, stretching his head back against the pillows to look up at the dark Ancient ceiling above.

He should be tired, but instead he was edgy. He didn't want to be laying here. The urge to get moving bothered him as much as it seemed to rule him, and so he made himself stay on the bed.

He closed his eyes and tried, stupidly he knew, to make himself sleepy. It wasn't going to happen. If anything, he was feeling worse as the night progressed.

A light sound broke the silence, someone clearing their throat quietly at the far end of the room. The nurse sat at the desk, essentially guarding the exit, had changed a few hours ago. It hadn't escaped John's notice that it was a male nurse and he wondered if they had done that on purpose. Of course there were two guards outside, so maybe it hadn't been on purpose.

He rolled his head to look at the walls of curtains. They irritated him as well. He felt closed in, but not in a good way like the crawl space had created, instead this was a confinement, a prison. He hated that he couldn't see the exit to the room, and he just knew they had done that on purpose as well. He was blocked in by two solid walls and two walls of curtains, penning him in, holding him back.

If the main curtain to his left was pulled back, he knew he would feel better, but then Teyla wouldn't have her privacy, and he understood that was important, even if he resented it in the same breath.

He stilled and could hear her soft even breathing. The bug super hearing was still strong it seemed. He hadn't missed a word of the conversation Carson had shared with her after dinner. Carson had talked to her about health issues and then had, dropping his voice even lower, asked Teyla if she was happy sharing the room with John. That a separate room could be arranged if she would be more comfortable.

John had instantly resented the offer, even though he knew that a woman might very well prefer being in a separate room instead of sharing with a guy, but he hadn't liked the idea one bit. The prospect of having to go through this recovery alone again had been worrying, the loneliness and frustration last time had been worse than the recovery. He wanted to be with her through it all, not alone.

She had turned down the offer of a separate room.

His relief had been physical, as had been the delight that her response had been immediate to Carson's offer. She hadn't even taken a breath before she had said no. She wanted to stay with him.

He looked back up at the ceiling.

She might have agreed to a shared room, but that didn't mean anything really did it. There were curtains separating the room into separate bays and compared to being in the main Infirmary, they had more privacy than normal.

He closed his eyes. He knew what was really bothering him, besides the feeling of being trapped. Their conversation earlier had essentially already addressed what had happened in that crawl space. The conversation had already been had, in a split second and he had been the one to say what had been needed. He hadn't meant to.

_It was because of the retrovirus, it'll make you do things you'd __never__ normally do…_

He had meant it to help her feel better about all those injuries, but hadn't meant it to explain away what had happened between them. Or maybe he had. He hadn't wanted to talk to her about it yet, but suddenly it had been said, and she had agreed. So, what else was there to say?

What had he expected? That she would say she had always wanted him as well? That she was going to dump Kanaan and wanted to be with him instead?

He opened his eyes grumpily at the mention of Kanaan, even in his own thoughts.

The edginess was getting too much now.

Kanaan would be visiting tomorrow and it was none of John's business what was said between Teyla and Kanaan. He had no right to feel like this…

Angry, annoyed, frustrated, and heart broken.

Hadn't he been planning to talk to Teyla to make sure that what happened between them was understood and move on? Clearly he had been lying to himself, because now that had been achieved, he felt unhappy and angry about it. He'd lost out to Kanaan _again._

He'd bet anything Kanaan couldn't make her feel the way John had in that crawl space.

No, that was the retrovirus speaking. They had just been two bug-people looking for company. It had been the retrovirus. She hadn't objected to his explanation, no she had leapt at it, smiling at him with what had felt horribly like sympathy. He had struggled to smile back, accepting this turn of things that he had thought he had wanted.

It had been just another one of those weird Pegasus experiences that he had to add to the pile, and move on.

She didn't want him.

It had felt like she had back in that crawl space, and before in their race through the city.

He allowed the memories forward now, allowing them out of the pen he had constrained around them so he wouldn't think about them.

He remembered the way he had felt, how all those formally suppressed feelings had just broken free and multiplied. He had let his attraction out without restraint, moving ever closer to her, until she had finally accepted him close to her. Her eyes, alien though they had been, had seemed to say that she wanted him too. Maybe it had been simple physical attraction. He wasn't vain, but he knew he attracted women. He didn't always notice, but he had been almost certain there had been a mutual sense of attraction between him and Teyla since the first day they had met. That didn't mean anything would extend beyond that, yet over the years their friendship had grown and the attraction had become something far stronger. Something he hadn't really acknowledged until suddenly she hadn't been available any more, Torren had been on the way, and John had lost any possible chance of anything. Not that he would have been ready for anything like a relationship back then.

What about now? Because the disappointment in his chest was very real, and it grated harshly against what he had felt as his bug self. Those feelings hadn't retreated entirely yet, so maybe he just had to accept that until he recovered completely he was going to feel the disappointment a little stronger. He just had to try not to focus on the memories.

He closed his eyes against the rush of memory though, recalling how her body had felt against his, the scent of her, her hands on him.

He sat up from the bed, unable to be still any more. He had to move, had to….something.

He swung his legs over the right side of his bed, away from the curtain blocking him from Teyla. He had to have some control over this, because it was that or allow out the aggression he felt bubbling inside. He wanted out of this prison and he wanted to sit by Teyla's side if nothing else. He knew it wasn't Carson's or the nurse's fault that the curtain was pulled across, but he was blaming them.

He pushed off the bed and the feel of the cold floor under his bare feet helped. He walked from the bed, shaking out his legs to ease the restless feeling. He paced down the length of his bed, trying to ignore the fact that his groin felt heavy with semi arousal.

He turned at the foot of his bed and looked through the thin gap between the curtains through which he could see through the end of Teyla's bay through to the shoulder of the nurse sitting at his desk.

The temptation just to peek round the curtain to make sure Teyla was okay was overwhelming, but John resisted it. He might have been without restraint before, but not any more.

He turned away and set his hands on his hips, his head back to look up at the ceiling overhead.

Each day their treatment would improve things, and he would feel better. He just had to hang on and behave himself. Already tonight, he felt different than he had this afternoon. Things would get better, and in two week's time, he would be out of here. After that, he could go back to his usual life and so would Teyla.

He just needed to stay calm and in control of the edgy agitation that was warring away inside him.

He closed his eyes, and tried working at the calm part as he listened to her breathing.

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TBC


	13. Retreat

**Note:** Had quite a few days break from this fic, Camy has distracted me with Beya challenges, and to be honest after about 50,000+ words on one fic, I kind of needed a break. Back on the case again now though. Thanks again for all the kind reviews and emails, they help keep me writing :) Thank you guys.

Infection

Chapter Thirteen - Retreat

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She woke early, the Infirmary outside the door still quiet and the lights low. However, the isolation room felt far from relaxed around her.

She blinked up at the dark ceiling above, seeking out what worried her nerves to pull her from the depths of sleep.

Whispering to the far left near the door drew her attention and she focused on the words being exchanged, only for another sound to register, that of John's pacing behind the curtain to her right.

"…slept for a few hours, but he's pacing again," a rather concerned male voice, perhaps the nurse, whispered to someone outside.

"You want us to call in the Doc?" Another voice asked quietly. She suspected she recognised who was speaking, Thompson from Major Donovan's team, which meant he was one of the two guards stationed outside the isolation room's door.

The nurse sighed heavily, the sound implying that he had had a stressful night listening to John's restlessness.

"No, I don't think there's anything really wrong, it's just…"

"What?" Thompson asked quietly.

"I just feel like he's watching me through the curtains," the nurse replied.

Thompson hushed out a quiet chuckle. "I know they had some kickass skills before, but I doubt they can see through things."

"I know, I know, it's just that when I look through to the gap between his curtains, he always seems to be there, looking back at me," the nurse replied, his tone rather haunted.

Teyla rolled her head quietly against her pillow to look at the curtains to her right, behind which she heard John's soft steps pause, turn, and pace back the other way again.

"He's stayed in his area, hasn't made a sound," Thompson was saying logically. "Why don't you go get yourself a drink, we'll keep an eye on things for you."

"Sure, thanks," the nurse replied. "I don't like this shift at the best of times."

There was movement outside and footsteps moving away, but she felt a presence still lingering in the doorway. The faintest sound of clothing moving confirmed her suspicion. She suspected Thompson was looking into the room for a long moment, to then move away, the curtains pushed back into place and finally the isolation room felt empty of anyone other than her and John.

John's pacing paused and Teyla felt the silence stretch.

She wondered what it was that kept him awake, for she had slept very well until now, and in fact, now she was awake she felt refreshed. The dark walls and still curtains around her bed felt enjoyably dark and enclosing, and that there was finally no other invading presence in the room made her feel even more comfortable.

John exhaled heavily from somewhere down the end of his bed and began moving again, soft steps moving up along his bed, the sound of his breathing moving closer. Once he reached the head of his bed, instead of turning and repeating his pacing once more, this time she heard the creak of his bed as he climbed onto it. There was another slightly quieter sigh and the sounds of pillows being rearranged, and then silence.

She laid still herself, not wishing to disturb him if he now felt able to sleep. She focused in on the sound of his breathing. It varied in depth with short sighs edged with what sounded like frustration, and then longer releasing out breaths. She willed him to be comfortable, to rest.

She considered getting up and drawing back the curtain, thinking that he may be more comfortable if he could see more of the room, but his breathing began to steady out and deepen. It wasn't the deep breaths of full sleep, but he was likely dozing.

She listened to him, feeling comforted by his relaxation. His breaths were even and resonated slightly with a faint depth of sound. She listened more closely, interested in the detail her still exquisitely sensitive ears could detect. The depth of his breaths seem to convey the width of his chest, how deep his lungs worked, and that he was sinking deeper into sleep.

She pictured herself moving closer to him, laying hand on his chest so to feel his chest move with his breathing, to feel the warmth of his body, the beating of his heart.

She looked away from the curtain, her thoughts having turned down an avenue that she wished to avoid. Retrovirus fuelled thoughts.

She focused up at the ceiling above her, forcing her thoughts away from John's sleeping onto anything else.

Kanaan came to mind.

She frowned as she tried to work out when she had last lain beside him and listened to his breath as he slept. It had been some time, even before the mission up to the Hive ship and her consequential illness. He had been staying with their people for days at a time to help with the new harvest and to help plan the new developments to the encampment.

With her people's numbers lowered even more by Michael, they had elected to live on a planet that was home to a people who had been trading partners for many generations. That planet, whose people lived very much in harmony with their thickly forested world, had been harshly hit first by Michael's plague and then by the Wraith when they had realised the remaining population's immunity. It had only been that so many had hidden in underground caves that any of their world had survived. They had therefore been more than willing to offer land to her people on which to live and move their camps. It was a large area extending outwards from near the Gate, over an area of hiding caves, and off into the hills and valley beyond. There was much to be cultivated and organised, and Kanaan had wished to be as involved with those plans as possible.

She had visited her people's new home many times, but had only stayed a few times. It was good land with good neighbours, but it was far from the entire planet New Athos had been before it had been tarnished by Michael and those who had moved in after her people's capture.

Thinking of her people's new home, of the land with its tall trees and dark hollows, seemed to appeal more to her now than ever before. She pictured herself running with abandon through those forests. The urge to run free had been strong since the moment her body had begun changing with the retrovirus. She felt the entrapment of the city like never before, and she missed trees and fresh water with a desperation that had her feeling anxious all of a sudden.

She closed her eyes tightly, picturing herself standing among trees, dark shadows over her with only dappled moonlight decorating the ground.

Kanaan loved the new land and frequently took Torren there when she was on duty. She loved that her son spent as much time with their people, but at the same time, she felt the pull of Kanaan's preference. He had not needed to say it, though he had hinted enough, that he wished them to stay in the camp more. He was missing his former life and she could understand that. He had lived his entire life in a camp, with fresh air and trees around him, supplying all they could ever need, and now he had to live between solid walls and be dependant on people, he did not truly know or feel connected to, for food and warmth. She knew that was how he saw Atlantis – not as a safe and wonderful city as she did, but as a place that trapped him from where he truly wished to be. Tonight, she found that she understood that feeling more than ever.

He would be visiting her later today.

To know that only seemed to increase her own feeling of entrapment. She pictured the trees and open air once more, and tried to imagine herself living in a camp again, Kanaan by her side. The frustrated aggression flared up inside her, surprising her as much as she understood what it meant. Before this had happened, she had been avoiding discussions of their home with Kanaan, feeling pushed by his feelings into making a decision that she was unsure about, and now her feelings were especially frustrated and sensitive than normal, she realised how she resented Kanaan. She may be able to understand his feelings and what he wanted, but she knew clearly what she wished as well. She did not want to leave Atlantis, even if it was only to sleep her nights in the camp. Life in the city was far too complicated to come and go with the evenings and mornings, and she did not wish to.

Her frustration extended further. For months, if not longer, they had both been keeping silent about their increasingly clashing feelings, expectations, and future desires. That he so influenced her life confused matters, and she wondered if in the depths of the retrovirus, she had simply chosen to put him aside and that was why she had not thought of him. Or perhaps, on that deep level, she had already put him aside. He would always been important to her, as the father of her son and a long term friend she cared for him deeply, but it was turning out that her feelings could not extend much further than that for the long term. She suspected that had Torren not arrived unexpectedly, that she and Kanaan may not have lasted this long, or the relationship would have remained only a background emotional connection outside the main focus of her work. She had felt regretful for those feelings before, but now they seemed clear and plain.

Though she looked forward to seeing him later, she knew that the meeting would perhaps define much of what was to come between them. She had to tell him about John as well, that she had been influenced to sleep with him, but at the same time, it had hardly been difficult and against her wishes to do so. It was time for her to be honest with Kanaan and for her to gain back her freedom, and to give him his freedom in return. Neither of them had been happy for some time, and she would not take that anymore. It would do Torren no good to grow up in a home full with unsaid resentments and frustrations.

Movement just outside heralded the return of the nurse, and Teyla glanced over to the hidden entrance as the footsteps headed toward the nurse's desk behind the curtain. There was a strong scent of coffee in the air.

To the right, John stirred from his sleep with a sleepy grumble at being disturbed, but he shifted around, possibly onto his other side, and his breathing deepened again.

It would be several hours she guessed until most of the city would be up and awake, but for now she had nothing to do, but lie still and try not to think about the complexities of her life too much. She took a breath and released it with a frustrated sigh, the walls around her feeling restraining and empty of interest. Even John's breathing was quieter, most likely because he was turned from her and pressed into his pillow.

Nothing to do but lie here and let her confused and resentful thoughts turn.

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He wished he could have brought Torren with him, but the risk was not worth it. Mother and son would be reunited soon enough.

Atlantis' entrance room was as busy as normal as Kanaan stepped through into it. The Gate of the Ancestors, as he had begun to call it, shut down behind him and already there was a group stepping forward to use it after him. They all nodded to him in recognition, in the polite indifferent way those from Earth had when they were focused on their missions.

Stood up on the railing to the right, Mr Woolsey gave him a polite nod, which Kanaan returned. The city's leader was a logical man, rather devoid of spirit, but sensible and honest. Kanaan had appreciated his updates on Teyla's health, and the invitation to visit as frequently as he wished.

The Gate began to activate behind him and, as he moved away towards the exit that would take him to the Infirmary, he looked over his shoulder to see the darkly dressed Atlantis team disappear through the watery wall. They were a determined people, brave and courageous in a way that had literally changed this galaxy. Kanaan admired them, yet when he was here, he felt that he did not fit among them. Teyla did, she seemed a part of these people as if she had been waiting for them to arrive all her life. Her skills had added to those from Earth, giving them the strong qualities of the Athosian people, that helped to keep them protecting Pegasus and not conquering it, as Kanaan still sometimes feared they would. They may not be planning to control all those within Pegasus, but at times it seemed to him that those from Earth still sought to bring their own values and standards to others.

That decisive arrogance was a characteristic of these people that Kanaan did not enjoy, as was their separation from nature and their own spirits. There was no ritual here except the preparation of a weapon or mission. There was no sharing of traditional food and ancestral stories, no shared prayers or other signs of humility among these people. Though Kanaan respected them and owed them his life, he still felt rather conflicted about them. Living among them was difficult as well, since there was little that he had in common with them, except Teyla, and only Ronon had seemed willing to extend friendship. Doctor McKay was a very self-involved man who was too busy to be anything other than passingly polite, and Colonel Sheppard practically ignored Kanaan.

No, living in this beautiful city was not a comfortable existence and of late, he had been feeling happier staying in the still relatively new camp with his people. Torren loved the camp and Kanaan desperately wanted his son to know that heritage, not only that from Earth and Atlantis.

In the camp, there was fresh clean air that did not constantly taste of salt. The air was still some days and the sun dappled through the trees so pleasingly. The sounds of the camp activity soothed his soul – chopping wood, gentle voices, and children playing. It was a life that Kanaan ached for when he lived here, and having spent so many days lately in the camp, he found that being back here, in these long tall corridors, felt oppressive and depressed him slightly.

Perhaps some of his confliction was in seeing Teyla. He was looking forward to seeing her of course, but still felt apprehensive. He had seen what had happened to her. Her body had been altered, on purpose, into something strange and alien. He had learnt that in that state she had turned on those in the city, running from the Infirmary's care, and that it had taken them almost an entire day to capture her again. This was the life that she chose – where mutations and pain were so frequent. He knew what it was like to been changed, altered into something more Wraith-like, and to see what had been done to her, of necessity, had hurt. Not for the first time did he wish to argue with her to return to live with their people, to live their old life and not this one of such unpredictable danger and strangeness.

Therefore, he was feeling very conflicted today. He feared that the Teyla he knew and loved might be altered beyond recognition, though Doctor Beckett had assured him otherwise. They had experience in this mutation it seemed, for Colonel Sheppard had gone through this change once before. Though Kanaan had his concerns about those from Earth, their medical knowledge was most impressive, and he had to trust in them, especially in the good Doctor Beckett, that she would be healed again.

The Infirmary doorway was open before him and he entered into a faintly busy room. Doctor Keller was to one side treating a wound to someone's leg and she smiled brightly at him as he passed. She had always been friendly towards him, and he considered her another kind face in the city.

However, Dr Beckett was caring for Teyla currently, so Kanaan headed on towards the far right hand corner where already he saw Ronon perched on the end of a bed talking to the two guards stationed outside the isolation room.

Ronon nodded as he approached.

"How is she?" Kanaan asked.

"Good," Ronon replied in his usual concise way.

"Good morning, Kanaan," Dr Beckett greeted from the lab doorway to the right. "How are you?"

"Well, Doctor, thank you," Kanaan replied.

"How's little Torren?"

"Missing his Mother."

"Understandable," the Doctor replied with a sympathetic expression. "Would you like to come in the lab to sit down for a moment? I'd like to update you on the latest."

Kanaan entered the small room, glancing back to the curtains that blocked the entrance to the isolation room, but there was no gap to see anything beyond.

"Would you like something to drink?" Dr Beckett offered.

"No, thank you. How is she?" Kanaan asked as he settled on a chair opposite the Doctor.

"She's doing very well, responding well to the treatment. We're continuing to test her for the original Wraith infection, but so far there's no sign of it and I'm confident that there won't be, but I think it's best if we keep with the restrictions. I'm happy for you and Torren to live back in the city, but I think we should give it a few days until we introduce Torren to her again."

Kanaan nodded, already well aware of the restrictions. "I am still reluctant to bring Torren back to stay in the city until we know for sure that the infection will not return. I promised Teyla."

"I understand," Dr Beckett replied. His manner, as always, was kind and non-judgemental, yet Kanaan thought he detected surprise or perhaps disappointment in the good doctor at hearing Kanaan's decision.

"Do you still think it will take a further two weeks until she will be allowed to leave?" Kanaan asked.

"Yes, but I'm happy for you to visit her as much as you want, but at the moment it would be best to keep those visits nice and short. She and Colonel Sheppard are still somewhat affected by the retrovirus, in that they are still rather edgy. They've been rather restless and clearly don't like being kept in the isolation room."

"I can understand that," Kanaan replied.

"Aye," Dr Beckett agreed, "But be aware that she may be prone to sudden changes in mood. It's perfectly normal for them given the situation."

Kanaan wondered if anything about this situation could be considered 'normal'. "I understand."

"Good. Ronon and the guards are outside if you need us, but otherwise we'll leave you to be alone with her."

Kanaan rose from his chair and thanked the Doctor as he moved away to the door. There he exchanged another nod with Ronon, who looked battle ready, and Kanaan moved through the curtains into the isolation room.

There was a bank of curtains partially obscuring her, but he stepped around them and she looked up at him.

Her smile was very much her usual self and he felt something ease inside. "Hello, Teyla," he greeted her as he approached.

"Kanaan," she greeted him in turn. She had a thin book, a magazine he believed it was called, on her lap, but she set it aside as he neared. There was a chair set ready for him at her side but he moved past it to stand beside her. Surrounded on almost all sides by white curtains and white sheets, the blue of her skin seemed all the more apparent, but her eyes were her own, and he could see her normal colour returning in places.

He reached for her closest hand and her fingers tightened around his. Her skin felt thicker than normal, but she was warm and alive.

"How are you?" He asked.

"Feeling better," she replied simply, which he knew would be all she would share, for she was never one to complain even when he might think it would be good for her to do so.

"That is good to hear. Torren misses you," he told her.

"I miss him as well," she replied, her voice showing her emotion and he saw the shine to her eyes. He tightened his hand around hers. This was his Teyla after all; she was not altered and alien despite her appearance.

"Dr Beckett tells me that I may be able to bring Torren to visit in a day or so," Kanaan told her hoping to lift her spirits.

She smiled again. "I hope so. How has he been?"

Kanaan told her of how he had been carrying Torren with him on long walks through the new fields everyday, and how Torren seemed to love the trees and birds. How Torren had been happily sharing playtime with the other children in the camp. He did not mention Torren's clear sadness or how their son still cried for hours at night, almost inconsolable with Teyla's absence.

"How is Halling? Our people?" She asked.

Kanaan drew forward the chair and sat down next to her. "They are well, though they are all concerned about you. They send their good wishes. Halling asks if he may visit when you feel well again."

She smiled happily again. "I would love to see him."

"Perhaps, once you are well enough to leave here, you could come to stay at the camp. I am sure it would help your recovery to be surrounded by those who love you."

Her hand loosened slightly on his, her eyes lifting to his. "As I am here," she told him softly.

"Of course. Though, I'm sure a gentle walk through the trees and a night spent around the campfire eating good Athosian food would do you good."

She nodded as she looked away. "Yes, I am sure that it would." Her eyes moved back to his. "You are enjoying your time living back with our people again."

He was surprised by the question, though it was more of a statement. "Of course," he replied.

The conversation paused, silence hanging around them. Kanaan studied her face and her arms, one of which was not changing back to normal as quickly as the other. The strange thick scaly blue skin disturbed him slightly, reminding him of Michael's experiments. He lifted his gaze back up to her face to see her frown. Her eyes slid to meet his, her gaze sharply direct in a way that felt unnatural.

"Kanaan," she said. "Have they explained to you what happened to me?"

"Yes," he replied immediately. "To save you from the Wraith disease, you were infected with this…" he glanced down at her blue arms, "retrovirus."

She nodded. "There are some things that I need to speak to you about."

He wasn't sure if it was the way she said it or that he had been suspecting she had something to share that caught his interest so sharply.

"About what happened to you or from before?" He asked.

She frowned at him. "Before?"

He felt instantly uncomfortable. He glanced over his shoulder to see that the desk where the nurse had been seated was empty. They had been given their privacy. Nevertheless, this was not the most ideal situation to bring up their former difficulties or the question of where he would prefer they live.

"Perhaps now is not the time to discuss it," he said.

"_When_ would be a good time?" She asked with an edged tone.

Dr Beckett had warned him about her changing moods and now Kanaan understood what he had meant.

"I only meant that you should be resting and recovering," he replied carefully.

She blinked and looked away, as if she had realised her tone had been inappropriate.

"When I am more myself, is that what you mean?" She asked and he sensed bitterness in the tone, and that he had disappointed her.

"If there is something you wish to discuss, then I am happy to discuss it now, I merely worried that you should be resting," he replied carefully.

She remained quiet, her attention focused down on the magazine lying beside her. This was not how she normally behaved, sullen and conflicted like this. Instinct told him that whatever she wished to speak to him about would not be good. He tried to resist the urge to jump straight to what he thought it might be, for it may be that something had happened to her during her 'change' that she wanted to share with him. It was not necessarily that she had simply chosen this strange time to discuss their previous tensions.

He watched her face, seeing less insight into her emotions than normal, though perhaps that was due to the strange changes to her skin.

She glanced away, to the wall of curtains on the far side of her bed.

"Perhaps you are right. Another day would be better," she said looking back at him.

Kanaan frowned at the curtain. Was there another bay on the other side? Another patient, but the only one there could be in here was Colonel Sheppard. Was the Colonel listening to this discussion? That thought annoyed Kanaan; that he and Teyla could not have proper privacy.

Bitterness rose up towards the unseen man, a man who had been the only other person infected with the retrovirus that had altered Teyla so much. Kanaan had had some questions about that. Mr Woolsey and Dr Beckett had seemed unsurprised by the cross infection of the retrovirus whilst Colonel Sheppard had tried to capture Teyla, yet Kanaan had wondered about it. Why had no one else been infected as well? Why only him? Why the one man that Kanaan felt cautious about, about whom Kanaan believed had an interest in Teyla himself. Kanaan had to wonder how the cross infection had occurred, though the others here had seen no curiosity to the fact, stating that a mere drop of her blood could have infected the Colonel. Kanaan had tried not to see more than that in what had happened, but that did not stop his powerful resentment now at the unseen man.

"Perhaps another day we can sit alone together," he suggested to her, pulling his gaze from the curtain and the inclination to seek out the shadow of an outline through the fabric.

"Yes," she agreed instantly, though there was something rather preoccupied in the smile she gave him. Her hand tightened on his slightly, drawing his attention fully away from the curtains. "Tell me, has Torren grown out of his coat yet? I was working on the new one and thought perhaps I could work on it here."

The conversation was thus turned onto usual conversation and Kanaan willingly followed, though the concerns about what she wished to discuss lingered. He had been struggling with the prospect of their future for some time, and those concerns had only been intensified by living away from her in the camp lately. Living in the camp full time again, had fed his soul deeply and that concerned him. He knew that Teyla would never leave Atlantis, even just to sleep in the camp and work here.

Her obsession with this city and those from Earth continued unabated, despite the strange mutation that she was recovering from now and her many injuries over the years. Such events would never occur if she were living…he caught himself in that lie. Had he not been taken from New Athos to be turned into a creature himself? His growing dislike of Atlantis and those from Earth was biased greatly he realised, and he knew the true reason why, for Teyla would never love him the way she loved her life in Atlantis. That was so very clear and obvious to him now, and so too was the fact that he could not return to living here full time.

She wished to speak with him about something, but he too needed to be honest with her, and he prayed to the Ancestors that a compromise had to be found between them. For the sake of their son, he would do what was needed, even if it meant living in two places, but he feared that she would ask more of him than he had to give. Not so long ago he would have given her anything she wished, without question or regret. However, now he had a son to care for, and his own life to lead. She had helped him with that, helped him to see his own potential, yet that very potential that she had encouraged felt useless in this city. Yet, it seemed that only in this city, with these other people that she came into her own potential.

He looked down at her strangely coloured hand loose in his, and he feared that she too had realised this truth. He wanted to talk this through, to discuss what had gone unsaid for so long between them, yet he feared that his assessment of her was too accurate – she would never leave Atlantis, even in part, for she did not love him enough to do so. Hopefully, there may be a middle ground for them, one which would allow them to remain together yet both live the lives they wished for themselves and for their son. Today, however, felt too soon to know the answer to that question just get.

00000000  
TBC


	14. Unease

Infection

Chapter Fourteen – Unease

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John turned the pages of the magazine, totally uninterested in it anyway, but especially so with the conversation on the other side of the curtain so loud to his sensitive ears.

He felt a little guilty about listening in, but then it wasn't like Teyla had asked him to give her and Kanaan space or anything.

He had tried to tune some of it out, and not think about the tone of their voices or the fact that he was sure Kanaan hadn't kissed her hello, even on the cheek. He tried to focus on the pictures of the magazine instead, but then suddenly she had been on the brink of telling Kanaan what had happened.

He had dropped the magazine, his attention snapping to the curtain, his heart jumping. He held his breath listening to the paused conversation as he fought against the sudden compulsion to jump up and push aside the curtain so that he could see Kanaan's face. At the same time though, he was seriously shocked that she was actually going to tell Kanaan, and so soon.

That confused him a little, for he realised that part of him didn't want her to tell anyone, so that it would remain something completely private between them and by telling Kanaan it was somehow tarnishing that connection between them. Yet, on the other hand, he kind of liked Kanaan to know, wanting to see the man's reaction. It was perhaps rather too caveman of him to think that way, but it didn't make it any less true.

She hadn't told Kanaan though, had pulled back from the confession, choosing to defer it to another day. John wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed at that. The thrill to hear her talk about it though, even in passing…that made him feel warm and full of anticipation to hear what she might have said. It brought the memories back too easily.

Kanaan had then made a pointed comment about privacy, and John had pulled his thoughts from where they had wanted to wander, and the guilty feelings returned. It was impolite of him to listen in on their conversation, even if he didn't have much of a choice right now, and even if he desperately wanted to hear what was said.

As Teyla and Kanaan turned their conversation away from that hazardous subject matter and onto other more mundane things, John had made himself turn away. He swung his legs over the right side of his bed, literally turning his back on the conversation.

He might still be feeling rather conflicted and fidgety in his thoughts and feelings, but physically he felt better today. His morning stem cell therapy had seemed to help, taming much of the physical restlessness he had felt all night. Of course, much of that restlessness had been focused on Teyla, who of course was now talking with her boyfriend behind the curtain, and John wondered if perhaps the reality of Kanaan's presence had dampened the restlessness as well.

He stretched his back and ran his hands through his hair, and then idly down his face to his neck, a habit he had picked up last time he had gone through this. His fingers sought out every strange thick area of skin and scaly spine. The sensation of his fingers varied across his skin, feeling fainter through the thicker areas. He repeated the motion, memorising how he felt now, so he could actually map the changes as the days passed.

Behind him, a chair moved and he focused back on the private conversation - Kanaan was saying goodbye. John held still, his head turned so that he watched the curtain out the corner of his eye. There was no tell tale sound of a kiss before Kanaan moved away from Teyla's bedside, promising to return tomorrow with some of Torren's things to mend or whatever.

John followed the sound of the retreating footsteps to the door, heard Ronon's deep tone outside and then all was quiet.

He remained still, wondering if he should sit back on his bed and hold his magazine so if she pulled back the curtain it wouldn't be totally obvious that he had been listening in. He realised that the polite thing to do would have been to listen to music or something so that he couldn't hear their conversation, or better yet leave the room, maybe sit in the lab with Carson. He felt a brush of guilt at not having done that, and a little worried that he hadn't even thought of it, but that all died away as he heard Teyla's magazine flutter in her hands on the other side of the curtain.

He felt tense, wondering how he should handle this, because she had to know that he had heard all of her conversation, and that she had been going to tell Kanaan what had happened under that water tank. Should he make out that he hadn't heard anything, but then he didn't like lying to her, and it was likely that she wouldn't believe him anyway. Her hearing was as good as his, and she would know if he had been listening to music. No, there was no simple answer here, only a new tension in the air.

He slipped off the side of his bed and moved down and around the foot of it to the tiny gap in the curtains through which he could see the end of her bay. He pushed the curtain panel aside so he could see her.

She glanced towards him with a polite smile, but he could tell that she was uncomfortable. She looked back down to her magazine, the room quiet and tense.

"So, sewing, huh?" He asked lamely. "I barely trust myself using a fork right now."

She looked up at him with a smile at his joke, though truthfully it hadn't been that far off reality.

"I thought it may help give me something to do," she replied with a faint sigh. "I do not seem to be able to focus on reading," she added lifting her magazine with a frown.

"Know what you mean," John agreed, more than a little pleased that he wasn't alone in that issue. "I gave up and just looked at the pictures." That drew strange links in his mind to certain types of magazines.

He moved further into her space, moving around the curtain to the table set between their beds. Rodney's entertainment supplies were still piled up on the table's surface, which had been added to by Walker's offerings. John idly looked through the pile of magazines and the two new DVDs. Nothing appealed to him right now. He didn't have the patience or inclination to play a game or watch a movie, which was unlike him. He set about sorting all the supplies instead.

There was a metal shelf under the table and he began stacking the board games on the shelf along with the books, separating away any girly type ones to Teyla's side of the shelf. He put the magazines and the laptop down on the shelf as well, the DVDs on top of it. Feeling absurdly pleased with himself for completing such a simple task, he picked up the last board game from the cleared table, only to realise that it wasn't a game after all. He lifted the jigsaw and contemplated the bright picture on its lid. He smiled at the picture of a fighter jet, flying low over wide fields, and suspected it had been a gift to Walker from his grandparents.

"How about the jigsaw?" He suggested looking over the table towards Teyla and he turned the box to show her the picture. Her eyes dropped to the box and she smiled.

"Alright," she replied as she threw her magazine aside and slid off her bed.

Pleased with himself for coming up with something they could do together, that wasn't the first thing that jumped to mind, he pulled over a chair as she did the same on her side. He pulled open the box and set the lower half, containing all the pieces, onto the table, and set the lid with the picture on its edge. He sat down and then got up to adjust his seat so he was opposite the picture and beside him Teyla did the same, so that they sat down almost beside each other. There was more distance between their chairs than normal, for on any other day, they would have naturally always sat right next to each other, but now there was this new distance. It was small, but it was there, filling the air with an uncomfortable tension.

The only way forward was to push through it though, he decided, and he pulled the lower half of the box forward so that it sat before them both on the edge of the table.

"You've put these together before right?" He asked as he shook the box, spreading out the tiny cardboard pieces and he reached in to begin sorting through them.

"Yes," she replied with some amused sarcasm as she reached into the box alongside his hand. "We need to find the edge pieces first."

"And the corner pieces," he added.

They fell into silence as they began easily pulling out the obvious edge pieces, piling them up on the table. As the edge pieces became slightly harder to find, with most of them out of the box, Teyla turned her attention to arranging those they had already found, selecting each piece and comparing it to the lid picture she held in her other hand. John focused on digging methodically through the box to pull out the remaining edge pieces. The focus helped distract him to a certain degree, but the air still felt thick due to the large unmentioned elephant in the room.

"We have three of the corners," Teyla announced and John looked up to see that she had set out the four sides of the picture with the pieces they had, breaks in the line where pieces were missing.

"What colour's the missing one?" John asked leaning forward and she held the lid between them as she pointed out the missing corner on the picture.

"This one, dark green," she replied.

John lifted the box so that she could see into it too and he began digging through again. Her fingers reached in and pulled out one edge piece from the side he hadn't sorted yet. He watched as she compared the piece to the lid picture and then leant forward to set it in its place around the edge. It suddenly became absurdly important to him that he find the missing corner for her. He shook the box slightly, running his eyes over the mass of pieces, gently brushing them aside as he sought the missing piece. Teyla pulled out another few edge pieces before he found what was missing.

"Here we go," he announced triumphantly holding up the final corner and Teyla grinned. He leant forward and pressed it into place, joining the two sides of the picture.

"We are missing a lot of this side," she pointed out. "Trees and yellow fields."

"Sunflowers," John informed her as he turned back to the box. "They're flowers that can grow really tall, bright yellow petals, dark centre."

"I see," she replied with interest and he saw that she was peering at the picture more closely. "And there are several people on this field."

"We should divide out sunflower pieces and any of the fighter's fuselage," John suggested.

"And these two large trees in the foreground," Teyla agreed.

They set about digging through the box, working quietly, building several piles of specifically coloured pieces and 'interesting' pieces that would turn out to be important in the picture eventually.

"I used to fly these," John told her spontaneously, the quiet beginning to get to him.

"You did?" She asked with interest.

"Yeah, into combat quite a few times."

"Do you miss flying Earth craft?" She asked as she leant across the picture and pressed a missing edge piece into place. "We have completed all of three sides," she reported with satisfaction.

"We just need more sunflower edges," John agreed and they both dug into the box. "I sometimes miss it, but I'll choose a Jumper to fly any day," he replied to her previous question. "Sunflower," he announced holding up an edge with a clear flower on it.

As the sunflower edge was on her side of the table, she took it from him and leant forward to find its place. The brief contact of their fingers as she took it from him made him feel better, as there hadn't been any hesitation to the touch, nothing but a task to complete together. He felt more relaxed then, reminded of their friendship that had been strong from the first day they had met. Despite the confusing situation and his own desires, he knew he would do anything to keep that friendship strong, even if it meant setting aside what had happened if she wanted it that way.

"We only need two more edge pieces to complete all of the sides," she said as she turned her attention to the pile of random sunflower pieces, looking through them in case the missing pieces were in there.

John looked up from his full search for missing edges and watched her working on the sunflower pieces, putting together pieces that fit. She was working intently, with more focus than either of them combined had managed over the last two days. He wondered if what was causing that light frown across her forehead was not just the faint discomfort between them, but her conversation with Kanaan.

She had asked Kanaan a lot of questions about the Athosian camp, and he thought he had detected undercurrents to what had been said. Before all the Hive ship madness had started, John remembered Keller and Ronon saying something about Kanaan spending more time out of the city.

"You miss the Athosian camp?" He asked, stumbling into the subject with less tact than he would normally. Probably because of the retrovirus, he decided, leaping on that excuse yet again.

She looked round at him with a surprised look. Her blue face making the shadows of her features strangely striking. "No more than usual."

John nodded and looked back into the jigsaw pieces. "Kanaan miss it?" He asked it because he suddenly couldn't not ask anymore. The retrovirus' fault of course.

He glanced at her out the corner of his eyes to see she was very focused on putting a large sunflower together. He wondered if he had pushed things too much, especially as he was being too obvious about having heard some of her conversation.

"He has been struggling with living in Atlantis for some time," she replied, surprising John with the detail of her reply and though he felt a little bit mean for having pushed the subject, now it was open he decided to go for it.

"We kind of noticed he was out of the city more lately," he said, which wasn't a lie, because the others had been talking about it.

"He feels he has more to offer there than in the city," she replied without a pause, though her attention was entirely fixed on trying to find where one piece of sunflower fitted. She turned the small piece several times, frowning down at it and the groups she had put together. After a pause, she sighed with frustration and set the piece aside and she glanced at him. John realised he had been watching her intently for some time and he started at her attention. She sat back in her seat to look back into the box of pieces he held, but glanced up at him again. "He has tried to persuade me to return to living with our people."

He hadn't expected that and he instantly felt angry.

"I have explained to him that my place remains here and that Torren has a future here," she continued, her tone quiet but that slightly frustrated or uncomfortable look shadowed her expression still as she began digging through the box again.

"You're not thinking of leaving are you?" He asked worriedly.

She shook her head, glancing briefly at him and gave him one of her soft smiles. "No, my place is here."

"Good," John replied instantly and she smiled again. "I mean, you know, you're a valuable member of the team," he explained weakly, hating himself instantly. He winced at himself and she chuckled at him before she leant towards the table with a handful of sunflower pieces.

"And even if you weren't in the team anymore," he felt compelled to add. "You've always got a place here, you know that right? You and Torren."

He watched her until she lifted her gaze to meet his and she nodded. "I know."

He nodded in response, and as she looked back to the jigsaw he realised he had missed someone out.

"And, Kanaan too," he grudgingly added, his tone only just concealing the distaste in his mouth to admit it.

She slid her completed sunflower section into place in the overall picture and though clearly pleased at the small accomplishment, she frowned as she ran her fingers over the completed area.

"I suspect that he will never accept this as his home," she confided. "And we have been having some difficulties of late."

John didn't really know what to say to that revelation. Cheering probably wouldn't be the appropriate thing to do. He had rarely ever wanted to discuss her relationship with Kanaan, with anyone, but this snippet of information explained much of that undercurrent he had thought he had heard between her and Kanaan before. Not all was happy in their relationship, and thought that made him feel happy, he also felt bad about that, because he didn't want her to be unhappy.

He struggled for a minute with the urge that rushed through him to do something to help, not that he had a clue what, but the compulsion to act in some way to help her was ever so strong. As it faded gradually into a generalised frustrated feeling as he watched her fingers brushing through the cardboard pieces in the box, following the separate and sort technique he had started. Her head was bent forward as she worked, her attention fixed on the simple work of sorting. The urge to reach out and stroke her hair was another rush of sudden feeling, but he squashed it quickly.

He took a breath and dropped his eyes into the box, reaching in near her fingers to pick up a piece of the fighter's wing.

He didn't like Kanaan, never had, but if Teyla wanted to be with Kanaan…he didn't want things to be difficult for her in any way. No doubt the massive elephant in the room that they weren't discussing couldn't help. The itch to help battled against the desire to just step well away from the subject, but the desire to be helpful won out in the end, even if it made the frustration a little stronger.

"You might not want to mention what happened to him then," he suggested carefully and quietly.

She angled her head faintly towards him in response, but didn't really look at him as she moved a collected handful of tree pieces to the table. There was a long protracted pause, during which he tried not to feel too warm and to keep his butt in his seat despite the discomfort of the discussion.

"I could not keep such a thing from him, regardless as to what happens."

John looked down at the box. Of course she would tell the truth, Teyla wouldn't do anything any other way. He set his teeth over the inside of his lip, biting back the words he really wanted to say.

"Well, I'm, um, sorry that things are more difficult for you now," he stumbled through the words that were true, but not quite.

She smiled softly as she glanced at him for a moment, their eyes meeting for a second before she looked away again. She was as uncomfortable about all this as he was, both of them sensitive to the 'elephant', which again they had skirted around. However, despite the discomfort and awkwardness, he was pleased that he had said the 'right' thing, even with part of him feeling rather more inclined to expressing his feelings physically right now. He was definitely thinking more clearly he realised; progress.

"I do not think it will ultimately change the outcome," she added as she arranged the pieces of one tree. He frowned at her comment and its unclear meaning, but she didn't add anything more.

He was staring again, so he dropped his gaze to the box, realising he had gathered a good handful of fighter pieces. He leant forward beside her and added them to the other similar pieces in the middle of the table. He began separating them out, seeking out patterns and shapes that he could easily recognise.

He looked out the corner of his eye at her working right beside him, noticing that the unusual physical distance between them had grown smaller again; some of the tension had eased.

"Tomorrow, if you want, I'll sit in the lab with Carson while Kanaan's here," he offered, not liking the idea of leaving the isolation room, as if it was some sort of retreat on his part, but he would do it because she deserved her privacy.

Another darker part of him wondered if leaving them alone might speed up a break up…or could it draw them closer together.

He was not the type of guy to break up couples, he had made sure never to be tempted down that path, but with her…especially now, he felt deeply conflicted. Words hovered on his lips, words that he knew he would never normally want to say. 'Dump him and pick me', was the sudden clear motivation that had him staring at her profile again. Was it the buggy feelings that had him feeling so possessive and frustrated, or were they simply empowered versions of what he had been feeling this last year and a half anyway? With the progress of his treatment, would he feel the same tomorrow as he did right now though?

She sat back, her attention returning to the box of pieces, and he made himself look back to the table, his interest in the jigsaw fading now in the wake of the conflicting muddling thoughts and feelings.

"Look," Teyla said happily and he looked round to see a jigsaw piece she held up for him to see. "I found the pilot," she smiled victoriously.

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TBC


	15. Confession

Infection

Chapter Fifteen - Confession

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The Infirmary was quieter today as Kanaan entered. Only a few beds were filled, though two of the pale faces laid in them looked particularly unwell. Doctor Keller was here again today, stood by one bed, holding a small cardboard pot of which Kanaan did not wish to know the contents. He moved on past without her noticing him.

Ronon stood in his ever-present station near with the guards outside the isolation room.

"Good morning, Ronon," Kanaan greeted him. "Are you well?"

Ronon shrugged. "Fighting fit," he replied.

Kanaan heard vomiting behind him and he winced at the sound. "Not so for others," he commented, not looking round.

"Stomach flu's making its way round the biochem labs," one of the guards replied with a faint smile. Kanaan wondered why that was amusing to the man. "McKay's lab is next on the list."

"Flu doesn't follow down corridors like that," Dr Beckett added as he appeared from the lab to the right.

"Tell that to the geology and anthropology lot who had it last week, they're just down the corridor," the guard argued with that amusement again.

"Though we can't include Jacobs and Chan in that, we all know how _they_ caught flu from each other and it had nothing to do with the corridors," the other guard added his opinion with a teasing smile.

Kanaan could not help but notice how much more relaxed they seemed compared to yesterday. They stood with a more relaxed stance, the tension in the air eased, and their weapons holstered away.

"How is Teyla?" Kanaan asked Dr Beckett.

The man smiled widely. "Much better, they both are. They're far more relaxed today."

"And they've almost stopped eating their own body weight," one guard pointed out.

Dr Beckett nodded his agreement with a smile as he turned with Kanaan towards the curtains that obscured the entrance to the isolation room.

"Their moods are more stable and they've been able to focus on tasks much more easily. The latest tests are all on the right path, so I'm very happy. If things keep going this way, I think we could have Torren visit in a couple of days."

Kanaan smiled at the good news. "Teyla will be most happy to hear that."

"Aye, but I still think its best not to promise anything to her just yet. We should continue to judge things on a day to day basis," the Doctor replied with the caution of his profession.

Kanaan nodded his agreement before he lifted up the bag he carried. "She asked me to bring her some sewing and items from her quarters."

"That should be fine," Dr Beckett replied, having understood Kanaan's unspoken question about the needles in the sewing bag.

The Doctor pushed aside a section of curtain to reveal the entrance to the isolation room and Kanaan followed him back into the room that was Teyla's current home.

Teyla was not in her bed today, but sat by a table, her attention focused on what looked like a game spread across the table's surface.

"You have a visitor," Dr Beckett announced and Teyla looked up.

"Hello, Kanaan," Teyla smiled.

He could see immediately why the others were so much more relaxed, for it seemed that in every way things were calmer. She seemed more relaxed, and the atmosphere of the room itself felt more at ease. Though her skin looked exactly the same as yesterday, he could see the change in the way she held herself, seeming happier in her own body once more. He assumed that the healing of her skin would be a gradual process, but seeing such a dramatic improvement in her was very encouraging. She would be herself again very soon.

"Hello, Teyla," he greeted her in reply, making sure she could see that he was happy to see her. When he had left yesterday, it had been with a faintly awkward and uncomfortable air, but today he was determined to work with whatever it was she wished to discuss. He had spent much of last night playing through in his mind what could happen regarding their approaching discussion, that perhaps it might be delayed, but if it was not, then he had thought through what he wished to say. Seeing her so much calmer, made him feel better about how any discussion would develop.

Movement over to the left drew his attention from her, and Kanaan looked round to see Colonel Sheppard stand up from his bed, which today was not hidden behind the a curtain.

"I'll leave you two alone," the Colonel stated as he began heading directly towards Kanaan. The action was innocent enough given his explanation, but Kanaan felt rather intimidated suddenly, the man's strange coloured skin and tall posture as he moved forward seeming somehow predatory.

Kanaan resisted the feeling though, reminding himself in that moment that he and Teyla deserved their privacy, for he seemed to read into the Colonel's eyes that he was not happy to be leaving the room.

"Thank you," Kanaan replied, making sure to control his tone so as not to sound impolite and give away that he rather resented that he needed to thank the man for the basics of privacy.

Colonel Sheppard nodded vaguely as he approached, one hand holding a curled up magazine tightly.

Kanaan stepped forward away from the doorway to allow space for Colonel Sheppard to leave, and he returned his attention to Teyla.

The Colonel passed behind him to join Dr Beckett at the exit.

"You can sit in the lab with me, if you'd like," Dr Beckett offered, his voice moving away out of the isolation room.

Kanaan glanced back over his shoulder to see the two men leave and turn to the left, moving out of view. He had almost expected Colonel Sheppard to glare back at him before he disappeared.

There was still a small gap between the curtains outside, through to the Infirmary beyond, and across that space, Kanaan saw a guard cross, moving towards the lab's entrance to keep watch on the Colonel. The other guard's arm appeared and the gap between the sections of curtains was closed. Kanaan and Teyla were finally alone.

He looked back round, pausing over the empty nurse's desk, and then on to Teyla.

She rose from her chair at the table and moved back towards her bed, climbing nimbly up onto it, and sitting into her familiar cross-legged posture. He moved forward as well, towards the chair once again set beside her bed for him.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as he sat down, setting the bag on his lap.

She smiled as she settled herself more comfortably on the bed. "Better," she replied simply.

"You seem better," he replied with a smile of his own. She met his eyes for a moment before they dropped to the bag perched on his lap. He looked down at it as he lifted it in offering. "I have brought the items you requested. Your toiletries from your quarters and the new coat you were preparing for Torren. I have included your sewing bag."

She reached out her blue stained arms to take the bag from him. "Thank you, Kanaan," she replied as she set the bag down on the bed in front of her, pulling it open to look inside. "How is Torren?"

"He slept very well, though this morning he was snuffling somewhat. The autumn is noticeably encroaching and many of the children are feeling the same," he reported.

She looked concerned. "Have you given him some yellow peace root? It should ease any congestion," she told him.

"Yes, Nalla recommended the same," he replied, pleased at her devotion for their son. "I will add some to his next few meals."

Teyla nodded and turned her attention back to her toiletries that she had removed from the bag. She set them on the table beside her bed and then reached back into the bag for the folded fabric she had previously been preparing to form Torren's new winter coat. She unfolded the material, holding it up. The chalk outline of the coat was visible against the warm brown material.

"I have not seen him for so many days, I fear I may make the coat too small," she uttered with a saddened tone.

Kanaan leant an elbow on the bed, leaning faintly closer to her, aware then that they had not touched in greeting. It seemed clear that their discussion would occur today. He dropped his gaze to the material in her hands, wishing now to focus on anything to delay the arrival of the possibly stressful discussion.

"It looks too big to me," he reflected honestly.

"Then it should be fine," she concluded as she began folding up the material again, abruptly more confident, the shift of her mood rather sudden. "He will grow much through the winter so it is best to have too much room." He of course already knew this, and that Teyla was falling on such basic conversation only made him feel even more distant from her.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, falling onto basic subject matter himself.

"Yes, deeply," she replied as she set the folded future coat aside along with her sewing things and the empty bag. "Thank you for bringing these to me."

"I was happy to," he replied honestly.

She pulled her bed sheet up over her crossed legs to keep herself warm, her hands flattening the sheet over her knees. She took a breath and looked up at him properly, the new strangely abrupt stare of hers still present from yesterday.

The time had come it seemed.

"I mentioned yesterday that there was something of which I need to discuss with you," she began, her expression displaying some concern as well as determination. Signs that this would not be a small issue.

If they were now to finally talk about their relationship in any way, then he too should be determined.

"And perhaps we have more to discuss as well, though I had hoped to wait until you were fully recovered," he replied, surprised at himself for sounding so confident and strong.

He saw a faint touch of surprise in her expression as well, but it disappeared quickly as she nodded.

Her eyes met his directly still. "They told you that I was not myself during my transformation?" she asked lifting her blue hands to indicate the signs of that 'transformation'.

He nodded.

"During that time, I did some things that I would normally not do," she continued.

"You fought against those trying to help you," he told her, having already been told the damage that she had done. He knew the power and skill she possessed as a fighter anyway, and added to the aggression induced by her 'transformation', he was not surprised that she had been able to defeat so many.

She nodded, her gaze shifting away with a flash of pained regret. He reached out and finally touched her, resting his hand on her closest knee. "You did not know what you were doing, you thought them your enemy and you reacted. I understand how that can be."

She met his eyes and then nodded.

"I did not understand what was happening and simply reacted," she agreed with his summary.

"You must not blame yourself for what you did. No one was seriously hurt," he reminded her. If this was what she wanted to confess then he was relieved, for he had known this already, and understood why it had happened. He would not think badly of her for that.

"You also know that Colonel Sheppard was infected with the retrovirus as well?" She asked.

Kanaan's relief died a little. He looked over to the other man's empty bed, today revealed from behind the curtain. All the niggling worries and concerns about the Colonel all rushed forward and he began to feel anxious again.

"Yes, he was infected whilst you fought him," Kanaan said carefully, measuring his tone so as not to give away his suspicions.

As he looked away from the other man's bed, his eyes fell on the table between the beds, across which the game she had been focused on lay partially completed. Two chairs sat close together other before it. She had spent all of the evening and morning here with the Colonel, the two of them entertaining each other, alone and unified in their common condition. And they would spend the next two weeks alone in here together.

He pulled his eyes from the table back to her face again.

She held his gaze. "Something else happened, when our transformations had advanced further, just before we were captured."

He clenched his teeth, his instincts telling him what might be at the end of this story. Abruptly he did not want to wait to hear her voice it.

"Did you kiss him?" He asked bluntly.

She looked a little surprised by the question and looked away with a frown, and for a hopeful moment he prayed he had misinterpreted what she had been going to tell him.

"No," she replied on a soft out breath, but more words hovered there unsaid on her lips.

He watched her with wide eyes, waiting for her to speak them.

She lifted her eyes up to meet his again.

"We slept together," she told him plainly.

Kanaan felt like someone kicked him in his gut.

"You know I would _never _have done anything like that to hurt you had I been myself," she insisted immediately, leaning slightly closer to him, her tone remaining soft and full of a certain amount of apology and regret.

He blinked rapidly as he sat back from her, his hand falling from her knee and the bed.

"I was not myself, and not thinking as to any consequences," she added.

He looked down from her face to her blue hand on the mattress between them.

"You were reacting on instinct," he said quietly, repeating their earlier conclusion about her behaviour during her transformation.

"Yes," she replied.

He leant his elbow back onto the mattress, supporting his jaw against his hand as he tried to process all the hurt feelings and bitter questions.

"You know I would not behave that way normally," she insisted.

He nodded, having to agree with her, for she was the most honourable woman he had ever known. And yet…

"How was he infected?" He asked the question that had been lingering in his thoughts over these past days.

Her reaction told him more than he wished to know. She looked shocked by his question and then she looked down and away as she sat back slightly, hiding clear caution behind the appearance of having to think about the answer.

"We fought and I reacted aggressively," she replied and he frowned at what had seemed a rather carefully worded reply.

"Was it because we have been distant lately?" He asked.

She lifted her eyes to him with another frown, looking surprised by the suggestion, but the confusion died away to a sad regretful look again.

"Perhaps," she replied, but she did not seem convinced of her own answer. "You must understand Kanaan, that as I was, I had no concept of even what it would be to argue, or the complexities of even opening a door. I could not have grasped any of the difficulties we have been having."

"And now, what of our difficulties?" He asked, his tone sharper than he had intended.

She took a deep breath, the emotions shifting across her altered features, and she looked at him, studying him as he studied her for a long quiet moment.

"You do not enjoy living here with me," she said softly and yet with conviction.

"I love living with you and our son," Kanaan replied immediately.

"But not here, in Atlantis."

Now it was his turn to break eye contact. He rubbed his fingers over his brow, trying to remember the practised way he had planned to express his feelings. He had thought through them enough over the last weeks, and especially so last night. However, right now, that cool logic and practised phrasing was lost in the emotion of the moment.

He frowned down at the clean white sheets tucked around the edge of her bed. She had spoken plainly, straight to the heart of the matter, and so should he. He lifted his eyes up to hers.

"Would you return to live with our people with me?" He asked plainly. "We can bring up our son in the camp, and you could continue your work with Atlantis as you wish."

She blinked, her expression showing sadness as well as the first signs of the determined leader she had always been and he knew she would not agree. His heart had suspected the outcome of this discussion, of this relationship, maybe from the start, but he had hoped.

"You know that I have chosen to live here, away from our people, but for our people," she told him.

He felt a rush of annoyance at her, for it had been her excuse for so long. "No, Teyla, you live here for _you _as much as for our people."

"And why not?" She asked with sudden annoyance of her own, justification filling the words. "This city has become my home and I love being here. I am happy here. I do not wish to leave."

"You seemed happy living with us on New Athos, back when the group of Ancestors returned," he pointed out. "When we began spending more time together, or was that simply because Atlantis was no longer available to you. That _he_ was gone?" He pushed.

She frowned at him, her expression harsher than normal, though perhaps that was simply due to her skin's different colour and texture. "I have never denied that I have chosen to be here, in this city and with these people. At first that was only to help _our_ people, and others in this galaxy, but this is now my home."

"A home you will not leave. Not for me," he concluded.

She looked down again, her mood shifting again, and she swallowed, the blue sections of her throat shifting with the movement. He noticed dark stripes visible around the sides of her neck. He focused on that detail to keep his heart in one piece. He had voiced what had pained him for so long. That he was not enough for her and that Atlantis would always win.

"This is where I wish to be," she said quietly. "And you do not," she added as she looked back at him.

He felt her slipping away so vividly now, like she was literally falling away from him. He had feared this, feared the chance that his suspicions would be confirmed, and so he had planned what could be compromises between them. Ways they could work around their differing desires for home and hearth. However, though he did not want to lose her and hoped a compromise might still be attainable, part of him felt detached from the prospect now. Her news about what she had done with Colonel Sheppard, despite the excuses as to why, and that she so clearly chose Atlantis over him, made him feel doubtful at his own suggestions. He had to voice them anyway, to know that he had not stepped away without doing all that he could, without knowing that there could have been a chance to save things between them.

"Perhaps if we lived apart, as we used to do when we started our relationship," he began. "I could live with our people and you in Atlantis, and we care for Torren between us."

She did not react all that much to his suggestion, which implied to him that she had considered the same herself.

"And we would continue as we have?" She asked.

He understood what she asked and what her tone implied. They were arriving at the decision that perhaps they had already reached some time ago, it was only now that they were admitting it.

As much as he felt rejected by her, her question made him realise that he too was not invested. There was too much difference between them now, strange considering that they now shared Torren, but a gulf was there. A gulf that had already existed between them for a long time, for since he had been a young man he had wished to share more than friendship with her. She had not noticed his attention for many long years, and that should perhaps have warned him from the start. Their time together seemed to be destined to be a short flash of brilliance before it died away. After all that had happened between them, it seemed that the gulf was returning, despite their efforts to live across it, and they were to return to friendship once more.

"Kanaan," she said softly. "I will always care deeply for you. You are the father of my son, and you have been my friend all my life."

He looked up at her, the emotion swirling into deep sadness now.

She reached out and her fingers touched against his forearm as she smiled softly.

"I pray that we can continue to be friends as we bring up our beautiful son." Her words cut him deeply, and he felt the tears in his eyes, and saw the shine to hers as well.

He nodded as he turned his arm and caught her hand in his.

"I am sorry, that I had to hurt you further with what happened," she added quietly.

He shook his head as he pulled his hand from hers, drawing himself together. "You were not yourself," he reminded them both, though his doubts and questions over her connection with Colonel Sheppard would no doubt continue, they were not his concern any more. "If you had not been altered by the retrovirus, we would still be at this same decision."

She nodded with his conclusion, confirming so clearly for him that they had both been on this path for some time. Perhaps from the start.

He looked up to her face, emotions very clear in her eyes, and that so much showed struck him as unusual. She was an honest woman, but she always contained and controlled what she felt, even in the heights of their closeness.

"I think perhaps this transformation has revealed more than it altered," he considered thoughtfully.

She frowned deeply at his words, and confusion and concern battled in her expression, but he did not want to sit and be lost in that anymore.

"Dr Beckett says that I may be able to bring Torren in to see you in a couple of days," he told her, redirecting them onto practical matters and allowing him to withdraw.

Her former confusion disappeared at hearing that, her eyes so wide and blazing with hope that it tore at his heart.

"I should take my leave now and I will see you again with Torren," he told her as he stood up from his chair and moved away before he felt anything more painful.

He headed away from her bed, his head held high, his chest aching and his emotions swirling through him. As he reached the exit, he glanced back with a strong and level smile towards her and she smiled back.

"I will see you both then," she replied, her control appearing firmly back in place. His emotions fought up for freedom though, so he turned away, stepping around the curtain that partially blocked the exit.

Once outside the isolation room he stopped and took a deep breath to try to calm himself, but now out of the room he felt his control slipping. He moved forward, towards the curtains to head out into the Infirmary, only to stop.

He looked to the left, down the short curtain lined corridor that led to the entrance to Dr Beckett's lab. Colonel Sheppard stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on Kanaan.

A surge of anger growled up inside Kanaan.

He turned headed towards the man, all the frustrations and doubts and anger suddenly given an outlet, a scapegoat perhaps, but he did not care, except to be able to finally express his pain. To blame someone.

"_You_!" he accused loudly towards the blue-skinned man, jabbing out a finger as he strode towards the lab's entrance.

Colonel Sheppard stepped from the doorway towards him, but Kanaan was blinded by the fury in him now, the pain and anger creating and empowering themselves higher.

From the first day, this man had stolen Teyla away from Kanaan, away from her people.

"This is _your_ fault," Kanaan accused angrily.

What happened next occurred so quickly that he barely processed it all.

Colonel Sheppard was suddenly directly in front of him, then a sudden painful pressure against Kanaan's chest throwing him backwards, and the wall impacted against his back, shocking his breath from him.

Shouting filled the air, along with the sound of falling curtains and metal poles, and energy flashed out filling the air.

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TBC


	16. React

**Note:** Sorry for the delay and for the shortness of this chapter – had a stressful week and not feeling all that cheerful, but managed to get this much done and posted at least.

Infection

Chapter Sixteen - React

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Carson had hoped that John would be comfortable enough in the lab whilst Teyla and Kanaan met privately. However, as soon as John entered the lab it was clear that he didn't want to be there.

The magazine John had brought with him was dumped aside immediately and he paced away across the lab with a restless air that Carson hadn't seen since yesterday. Carson followed him in cautiously.

"Would you like something to drink?" Carson asked towards John's retreating back. John shook his head, rubbing his faintly blue hand against the back of his neck. "Something to eat?" Carson offered more hopefully. "They may have some of the crumble left." Carson had had two helpings of the apple crumble himself, which hadn't quite tasted as good as his mum used to make, but had still been good.

"No, thanks," John replied, which surprised Carson a little considering John's current appetite. The polite response was good though, because yesterday John wouldn't have said it.

Carson headed over to his desk chair and sat down, wondering what discussion he could start to distract John.

"Rodney's been in here a few times today," he began. "He's worried because that stomach flu is still spreading through the labs."

John paced along the side tables, glancing absently over the computers, vials, and testing equipment.

"Simmons' is taking bets on the spread of the flu," Carson continued undaunted for it was hardly the first time a patient was unresponsive. The trick was to just keep talking, as sometimes people just needed to hear a voice. "Can't say it's the most ethical thing to do, but odds are good that Rodney's lab is going to be hit next."

"Even if it doesn't, Rodney'll still get sick," John replied with a faintly distracted tone.

"If we count every time he has insisted he's already caught it, he would have had it about five times this week," Carson replied, his chuckle a little forced.

There was something about John like this, tall, discoloured and predator-like, which made Carson feel rather uncomfortable and glad that Ronon had decided to stick around in the Infirmary again today. Earlier Carson had been chuffed that both John and Teyla had seemed more relaxed and their wavering moods had stabilised, but watching John now, he could see that the restlessness was far from gone. They would have to be given some space still, since abrupt changes of mood might still be a possible problem.

Carson tried starting up a couple of more conversations with John, but was met with only brief replies, and Carson decided that the talking alone appeared to be annoying John, so he turned back to his work. He poured himself out a cup of coffee, and almost offered John one again, but then decided that caffeine might not be the best thing for John right now.

Carson began reading through his emails to distract himself, though remained acutely aware of John moving around the lab. The repetitive pacing was joined with bored frustrated sighs.

"There's some filing if you want something to do," Carson offered after five minutes, John's pacing getting to him a little, especially when it was back and forth behind Carson's chair.

John let out a doubtful sound. "No thanks, that's one benefit of being sick – no paperwork."

Carson smiled, pleased at the coherent reply.

John paced behind him and paused for a moment, causing the hairs on the back of Carson's neck to quiver, but John moved on again, this time heading towards the door. Carson looked up and round worriedly, but John to stopped in the open doorway. There was nothing to see from there except the wall of curtains and the narrow slip down to the isolation room's entrance, which seemed to be John's focus.

Carson frowned as John seemed to settle in place, stood in the doorway, simply looking out as if he were on guard.

"You okay?" Carson asked.

John glanced over his shoulder, his profile controlled. "Sure. Just bored," he replied.

Carson didn't think that made sense, because there was far more to distract John inside the lab than standing in the doorway doing nothing. Except clearly John wanted to watch the isolation room, presumably for when Kanaan left. John didn't like being limited to the isolation room, so Carson would have expected him to be happy to be out of it even for a short time.

Carson sipped on his coffee thoughtfully. John had been very protective of Teyla these last couple of days, aggressively so at times. He wondered if their shared experience and the recognition of being alike through their changes had formed a bond of some kind, some behavioural response of the Iratus DNA. Though, they were close friends anyway, so it could just be an extension of that.

Carson watched John for a few quiet minutes, wondering how long the quiet waiting was going to last before the pacing began again. John's shoulders were a level tense line, his breathing broken by the occasional sigh, but otherwise he was completely silent. That was more unnerving than anything.

Carson had to wonder what it was about the situation that John found so disturbing, that perhaps it was simply being out of the isolation room, away from Teyla, or that it was Kanaan in particular who was in there that was unnerving John. The implications of that possibility were interesting, but it wasn't Carson's place to ask about that.

After another few moments, during which Carson sipped his coffee and wondered what was circling around John's head, he finally returned his attention to his emails. However, he angled the screen so that he could keep an eye on John out the corner of his eye as he worked.

He read through another email from the xenobiology department. Carson had had to shoo the scientists away from the isolation room several times already, knowing that John and Teyla would not take kindly to being watched like a zoo exhibit, and he had offered copies of his reports and samples to test in compensation.

He had been halfway through typing out his latest reply when he heard movement outside the lab. He looked up to see John tense up even more in the doorway, his arms falling loosely to his sides, his hands open.

"You!" Someone said loudly outside, and it took Carson a second to register who it was who had spoken since he had never heard Kanaan ever raise his voice.

"This is _your_ fault," Kanaan shouted as he pointed aggressively towards John as he stormed towards the lab from the isolation room.

Worried and alarmed, Carson shot up from his chair as John moved out of the doorway, but it was already too late.

John shot forward, the motion so quick that in the blink of an eye he had reached Kanaan.

"RONON!" Carson shouted as he rushed forward, but again it was too late.

John shoved Kanaan's raised arm aside and Carson swore he heard a growled hiss as John pushed both his hands against Kanaan's upper chest. Kanaan was thrown back by the fast shove, and he hit the Infirmary wall a metre behind him. Carson winced as he reached the open doorway, John blocking his view of Kanaan falling to the floor as he paced towards his victim.

Carson realised the curtains were falling away to the left, the Infirmary revealed between falling poles, and Ronon appeared, the stunner raised and energy buzzed through the air.

The stunner blast engulfed John as he was moving forward, his body bent to reach down at Kanaan. Carson watched the coloured light flash around John's body and saw the consciousness drop away as John fell forward, hitting the floor in a slumped dead weight.

Carson strode two steps forward towards the two fallen men, only for another shout of warning and Carson froze, looking towards the isolation room to see Teyla in the doorway, her face almost unrecognisable with fury, her eyes wide and her teeth bared.

Carson's brief relief was gone, but his concern about everyone flooded forward. She looked ready to attack someone, anyone, and there were a lot of people in the Infirmary and that worried Carson.

To the left, someone shouted out another warning towards her and she looked away from Carson's direction. The two guards had Wraith stunners in their hands, but it was Ronon who held her attention. He had his stunner ready in his outstretched hand, but the gun was pointed downwards, his other hand held up and out in a calming gesture.

Carson looked back at Teyla, to see that her fury had dimmed, her shoulders lowered and she was blinking with what looked like confusion along with her anger. Carson waited, as they all did, as against the wall Kanaan turned to look back towards Teyla.

Teyla's eyes moved from Ronon, down and around towards Kanaan. She blinked again with more comprehension in her expression, only to then slide her gaze to where John lay unconscious on the floor. Her expression hardened with angry aggression again and her eyes snapped back to Ronon and the other guards.

Tension crackled in the air.

"It's alright, Teyla," Carson called to her. "No one's hurt, it's all okay." He used a calm quiet tone, holding his own hands out, palms down so as not to appear threatening.

Ronon lowered his stunner some more, as did the guards next to him, but all were ready to react again in an instant. It still helped though, as Teyla's posture relaxed a fraction, her eyes sliding to Carson.

"It's alright, Teyla. I'll take care of these two for you," Carson told her, indicating Kanaan and John on the floor in front of him. "I just need you to step back into the isolation room again. I'll take good care of Kanaan and John."

Her eyes dropped down to the two men, extending her head to look further round to where Kanaan sat frozen against the wall, his worry clear.

She blinked again and then nodded as she stepped back a pace.

Carson took that as a very good sign and he moved forward, calling for assistance from the nurses already waiting behind the fallen curtains. Moving slowly and clearly, he crouched down by John and reached down to press his fingers to John's wrist feeling for his pulse. It was steady.

Sally crouched down at his side, and behind her Carson saw Jennifer stepping over fallen curtains.

"If we get him on a backboard we can move him back to his bed," Carson suggested and Sally nodded and moved away to fetch the board. "Let's just all stay calm and move slowly and purposefully."

"Kanaan?" Jennifer asked as she moved pass Carson to check on the other man. "Are you alright?"

Kanaan nodded, but he looked pale, though Carson suspected that was due to shock more than any real physical damage.

Jennifer crouched down beside him. "Did you hurt your back?"

Kanaan blinked rapidly, his eyes lifting up from John, to meet hers. "I am alright," he reported.

"Jennifer will check you're okay," Carson offered him with a reassuring smile. He felt sorry for the man, but he had been warned about the affects of the retrovirus, but then he hadn't been in the city during Teyla's escape. He hadn't seen how the retrovirus changed people so dramatically. He wouldn't forget any time soon though.

Kanaan looked away back towards the isolation room, where Teyla could just be seen watching them. She was still far from her calmer self, the tension and controlled aggression just in check.

"They're both alright, Teyla," Carson reassured her as beside him Sally arrived with the backboard.

They set the board right up against John's side and together they rolled John over onto it. Carson purposefully didn't look in Teyla's direction, but he could feel her attention on him. He gave clear instructions to his people, so she would understand why they were strapping John to the board ready to be lifted.

Kanaan grunted as he stood up, Jennifer by his side, but not needing to help him up. Kanaan was okay, but as he moved away, he kept a lot of space between him and John.

Carson looked back up to see Teyla slide her eyes from Kanaan's retreat back down to John. Carson smiled up at her as he arranged for some strong arms, not including the guards or Ronon, to help lift John. The wall of curtains was quickly being restored, providing privacy once again by the time they lifted John up off the floor.

Carrying John's heavy unconscious weight, they moved towards the isolation room's entrance. Carson could feel his people's faint nervousness at moving towards Teyla, but he just smiled at her where she stood just inside the doorway. Her eyes were still wide and her posture was not quite normal where she stood tensely in the entrance, her eyes on John. The thought occurred to Carson that she might very well present a threat to his people once they got inside the room. If she thought of them as a threat to her, for even a moment, things could get out of hand again.

"Teyla," he said calmly and with as friendly a tone as he could whilst he still had adrenaline of his own in his system. "Would you move back a bit, so we can get John safely to his bed?"

She held still for a moment as they neared the doorway, but then she stepped back as he asked. However, she didn't retreat back to the near corner where Carson would have preferred, but instead moved ahead of them, moving backwards into the space between the two beds, keeping in pace with them, her eyes still on John as they moved deeper into the room.

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Her heart was pounding in her chest, urges thought past were once again twitching through her limbs, and it took an extreme amount of self-control for Teyla to focus her mind to over ride those reactions.

As soon as Kanaan had left the room, she had been shocked to hear his raised angry voice, and she had known immediately at whom he would have directed his accusations. She had jumped from her bed as the sound of fighting began outside.

The adrenaline pounding through her system, driven by her rising heartbeat, it had suddenly felt as if she was free in the city again, her body feeling alive and powerful.

She had reached the doorway just as the sound of the stunner blasted out over the sound of shouting and falling curtains. She had surged into the doorway, holding still, every fibre of her being poised ready to attack.

She had felt surrounded by enemy, blocking her escape, trapping her in, and on the floor her mate lay too still.

Reality burst into her consciousness then, fighting against the overlying instinctual response she had had to the sounds of battle. Yet, despite names of those around her registering in her thoughts, she still locked her eyes on the one with the weapon held towards her, the air full of the static scent of the stunner in his hand. Fury rose up hotly in her, blazing through her with a justification that had her hissing at the man before her.

He did not react as expected though, the weapon lowering down from its threatening position, and his name returned to her abruptly.

Ronon held his other hand up, his palm gesturing for calm.

Not enemy, these were friends.

She swept her eyes back round and down to John lying on the floor, the pieces of what had happened arranging themselves into a logical explanation. Her gaze slid from him to Kanaan's legs close by and she angled her head around the doorframe slightly to see him sat against the base of the wall. His eyes stared up at her with clear shock and fear in their depths. He looked winded, not hurt, but frightened. He had shouted at John. Her eyes ran back to John, where he lay completely unmoving.

Tension ran through her body again and she snapped her eyes back to Ronon, accusation hot in her heart. Logic and understanding was swamped by those feelings, adrenaline overriding and building on the entrapped feeling pressing in around her.

"It's alright, Teyla," Carson's soft, calm voice called to her from the left. "No one's hurt, it's all okay."

His words broke through her anger, drawing forth other thoughts and she realised abruptly that all this was her fault. Those softer, more inverted feelings, battled against her anger now, for her to comprehend what was occurring again. These were her friends. There was no threat here.

She looked from Ronon to Carson, focusing on him, what he meant to her. He was her friend.

He gave her a hopeful smile as he promised to take care of John and Kanaan for her. She looked back to the two men on the floor, leaning out of the doorway some more so that she could see more of Kanaan's pale face. He looked alright, but both of them needed Carson's care. Carson asked her to back down and she forced herself to relent, to calm herself as she moved back two steps until she was inside the doorway, her view of John partially obstructed and Kanaan completely out of sight.

She watched as Carson checked John was all right, as nurses and others began lifting the curtains again and preparing to move John.

The strange twitches down her arms and legs continued as she watched them manhandle John onto the board on which they would carry him. Kanaan appeared in the distance, his eyes lifting from John to her. Mixed feelings battled inside her. He had accused John aggressively and had paid the price, yet that justification warred against her own concern for him. He was moving alright though, Jennifer by his side, and she saw the regret in his eyes for a moment before he disappeared behind the curtains out of view.

More people arrived then, moving through the curtains to surround John, who Carson had strapped onto the board. Teyla clenched her fists at her sides as the people crowded around John. They were there to help him, but seeing him so vulnerable itched at her inside. She clenched her teeth along with her nails biting into her palms as all the hands grasped the sides of the board and, with a few grunts, John was lifted up from the floor.

She held still as they shuffled John's weight between them and then began moving towards her, which eased her tension a little further.

Carson was at the front of the group carrying John, and that helped, for he smiled at her as he approached. He asked her give them space to care for John, so she pulled back towards John's bed as they followed her into the isolation room.

They set him down on the bed, released him from the board's straps and pulled it out from under him. Teyla held back, yet keeping close, watching them with a suspicious tension that boarded on aggression once again. She tried to watch every movement each nurse made, but it was difficult with so much activity. Then the sound of Velcro drew her attention down to see that Carson was strapping a restraint around John's wrist, and down at the foot of the bed, a nurse was doing the same to John's ankles.

"It's just for safety reasons, Teyla," Carson explained with that calm tone again.

She slid her eyes to his as he looked at her. She saw the faint concern there well concealed behind his professional mask, but it was almost as if she could smell the fear lingering around him and the others. They were afraid of her and John again, and she realised that perhaps they were right to. She dropped her eyes to John, replaying the growl she had heard from outside, imagining how he might have struck at Kanaan. It was a well-informed imagining, for she had behaved just that way herself, and the shame and regret was enough now for her to pull back her aggression further. It was the retrovirus. These were her and John's friends; they were trustworthy. She was not behaving appropriately.

She blinked down at the closest restraint around John's wrist, and forced herself to relax her fists at her sides.

"They're just there in case he wakes up angry. He wouldn't want anyone else to get hurt," Carson tried to reason with her.

She looked up from the restraint to John's relaxed face. They had set the head of the bed further down, so that he laid almost flat, his stunned body limp and restrained. He had attacked Kanaan, so they had to keep him contained. She understood that, but she did not like it.

"Please, Teyla," Carson asked.

She looked round at him to see that all but one nurse had left the room, but Ronon and the other guard stood in the doorway.

These were friends, all trying to help.

She nodded her agreement.

Carson smiled with relief in his eyes as he moved away. "We'll leave you be for now." He pulled the curtains she had thrown aside back into place, once again partially obstructing the doorway. She could still see one side of it though, and she saw the edge of a uniformed shoulder stood just outside.

She held still as Carson and the nurse left, the room falling into still silence. The feeling of being trapped and imprisoned returned.

She remained in place, her breathing soft and quiet, all her senses rooted on the doorway, as if waiting for some threat to arrive whilst John was unconscious.

She strained her hearing and caught pieces of the differing voices outside.

"He'll be fine, let's just give her time to calm down as well," Carson was saying.

The clatter of curtain panels being returned to place overwhelmed more of the conversation, and she realised then that her hearing was not as sensitive as it had been this morning.

She looked back down at John. He laid so still, his chest barely moving.

She reached out and laid her hand on his chest, over the thin layer of his white scrubs top. The heat of his body poured into her palm and she felt the gentle rise of his ribs. He was breathing. He was well.

He had lost his temper that was all.

She looked back over her shoulder towards the exit, keeping her hand on his chest, the physical proof of his breath comforting her.

Time moved, but it moved with the strange fluidity she remembered from her time running through the city. Her senses filled her awareness of the room around her as she remained cautious and ready for someone to appear around the curtain again, yet a large portion of her focus was directed on the feel of John's breathing under her palm, the motion steady and calming for her. It soothed her deeply. The repetitive motion, so basic and important, gave her centre once again.

After some indefinable amount of time, she blinked out of her almost trance like state and finally looked away from the exit.

She had over reacted herself. Two men had lost their tempers and that was all. They were all fine.

Her complete sense of self had returned, the clouds of aggressive hyperawareness drifting away to allow clarity once more.

She felt rather shaken by the fact that, despite her ongoing treatments, she had so abruptly reverted into the retrovirus mentality. What if she never completely regained her patience again? What if she retained the trigger edge temper forever?

She closed her eyes, drawing on her logical mind to calm her fears and remind herself that all would be well.

She had another two weeks of treatment left to go, and in that time she would become herself again. She had seen John returned to himself all those years ago, and they would both return to normal this time as well.

She was safe. John was safe.

His chest was wonderfully warm under her palm, lifting and filling with each in breath. It soothed her still, made her think of his presence always beside her these past days.

Memories of him during their run through the pier's buildings returned, unbidden, but so inextricably linked with the physical feel of him under her hand. He had been a constant warm presence hovering near her as she sought somewhere for them to be safe. His eyes on her always. His mind a warm blanket of familiarity and comfort against her instinctually driven fears and confusion. A mind that had slipped against hers like a caress.

She had forgotten that feeling. Purposefully so perhaps.

How she had felt his thoughts brush against her own as if they had substance to them. How their minds had joined, merging and caressing, confirming and building her desire for him. His desire a burning temptation and promise in his mind.

She snapped her eyes open and swiftly pulled her hand from his body, stepping back from his bedside.

Retrovirus fuelled thoughts - that was all. Taking her over, just as the aggression had tried to just now.

She had to remember who they really were and the reality of the situation.

Before, they had been lost in animalistic thinking, and her own desirous thoughts may well have influenced his own. After all, she had been his Queen.

His desirous thoughts could gave been a product of the situation.

His attack on Kanaan just now, had been a simple response to what had likely seemed an attack upon him. Or there may be a chance that John had reacted as he had before, wishing to protect and fight for his Queen. Either way, she felt the guilt returning, both for infecting John initially, but also in that Kanaan had been hurt even slightly. He likely would be highly cautious upon his next visit, if he visited again at all.

As worrying as that might be, she more relaxed now, the last of the adrenaline finally draining from her system. All made sense again, though that did place her back into the mix of embarrassed regret and shame, but she felt herself once more.

She looked back up at John, almost reaching out to him again, seeking the feel of his breath, but she held back. He was fine, comfortable enough, and would soon wake.

Until then, she would watch over him.

000000  
TBC


	17. Restraint

**Note:** Thank you everyone for the kind words to lift my spirits, yes life is a tad stressful, but I go on. I'm glad people weren't too dissatisfied with the lack of posting and the short chapter yesterday, but I have been busy. I extend a far longer chapter for you all today, one you should all enjoy. And a shout out to shiratdeborah – the whole herd of elephants are now arriving :)

Infection

Chapter Seventeen - Restraint

00000000

He snapped awake instantly, as was always the way lately. His awareness of the room around him was almost an assault on his mind as his senses provided immediate sharp detail of everything around him. He would take waking up groggily, but gently any day over this instant sensual shock.

He closed his eyes against the light of the room, giving his brain a little longer to compensate to it. He remembered this from last time; his body gradually changing, but that at times it would be uncomfortable as he morphed back into the real him again. The quicker that happened the better, because he had the feeling of an approaching sense of trouble ahead. When did he start napping in the middle of the day anyway?

He opened his eyes again and lifted his head from the pillow to see the curtains at the end of his bed.

The memories arrived, a little later than the senses' presentation, but they too were in sharp clear detail. The sense of being in trouble now made sense and it shifted abruptly into an emotion he already knew far too well. Guilt. God, he hated it and it was a thick heavy weight in his gut right now.

He had lost his temper, explosively and just as he had back on the run with Teyla. It had come out of nowhere, from feeling frustrated and restless to suddenly being so aggressively angry that John could barely understand what he had done now.

He moved to sit up, but the weight over his arms and legs, which he had thought to be the sheet caught around him, turned into the resistance of the restraints holding him down. A brief burst of annoyed aggressiveness lasted all of a second before he squashed it right down and away. Of course they would restrain him after his outburst. He was lucky they hadn't just sedated him for another week.

Movement to his left drew his attention away from the natural inclination he had to pull at the restraints, testing their strength. He looked round to see Teyla step forward into his view, her head tilted to look down at him with an assessing look.

Yeah, that was it, he hadn't just lost his temper - he had attacked Kanaan. Wasn't that just his unconscious playing out his internal thoughts? He felt a renewed wave of guilt, but there was a tingling edge of amusement to it. He crushed that part away, focusing on Teyla's cautious expression as she assessed his mood.

"Hey," he greeted her sheepishly.

Her smile was relieved, though her measuring focus didn't quite disappear from her eyes. "Are you alright?" She asked.

"Sure," he replied offhandedly as he looked down at the restraint around his left wrist rather than at her, embarrassment flowing forward and adding to the rather overwhelming sense of vulnerability he felt at being strapped down and open to her scrutiny.

"Damn, retrovirus," he muttered as he strained his wrist against the restraint in hopes that he could pull it free. The humiliation was almost as strong as the guilt now, and the annoying sense of restless was once again burning in his chest. He felt trapped and embarrassed, with nowhere to go and hide.

Her warm fingers brushed against his wrist, appearing into his view, as she began pulling the restrain free for him.

"It was not your fault," she told him, as if they had started the conversation already, but then again it wasn't like this was all that new. They had had this conversation several times already and he knew how it ended – it was the retrovirus' fault. That same old excuse. He thought maybe they should write it up on a banner and hang it on the wall. Something bad happens again and they could just point at the sign to save time.

The restraint loosened around his wrist and he gratefully pulled his arm free and up, reaching across himself immediately to free his other hand.

"Did I hurt him?" He asked her, as he kept his focus on freeing his right wrist.

"No," she replied immediately. "I think you frightened him and the rest of the Infirmary though, no one has visited either of us for some time now."

Oddly, there was amusement in her voice, and it actually made him feel faintly better about it all. His right hand free he looked up and round to meet her eyes this time.

She must have seen his regret clearly, because she gave him a sympathetic smile. "It was not your fault," she told him again. Yeah, that banner really would be a good idea.

She understood though, because she too felt the same restlessness at being trapped in here as he did. Their feelings conflicted and moody. Yet, being totally honest with himself, it wasn't like John hadn't been a tiny bit spoiling for a fight in regards to Kanaan. Of course, Kanaan hadn't done anything wrong other than date Teyla when John hadn't had the bottle to make a move himself. That view had changed though the minute Kanaan had turned towards him, his anger plain and suddenly John had had the excuse to blame something directly on Kanaan, even in some twisted way. The rest had been pure animal reaction towards what he had actually seen as a threat towards him.

"He came at me," John explained weakly to her as he made himself meet her eyes. She deserved an explanation for how he had behaved, even if it was a rather pathetic one.

He should have had better control of himself, and the shame he felt at that loss of control bothered him. He really could have hurt someone. There was more to it than that though, for he felt exposed at perhaps having revealed his true feelings in regards to Kanaan for all to see. Hopefully everyone would just use the banner excuse too, especially since Kanaan had started it. What was a bug guy supposed to do when someone came at him?

That said, he knew there had been more to it than that. He hadn't just reacted at someone coming at him, that it had been Kanaan had been part of the reason. It had been an excuse to react, to act out his own inner feelings of resentment and whatever. Like a child. Had that been the retrovirus or had that just given him the excuse finally to take a swing at Kanaan?

"I know, I heard him," Teyla replied, breaking him from his internal worried confusion.

John felt instantly more relaxed at her calm reply and expression. She didn't seem to be holding a grudge against him. She explained away his reaction with understanding and sympathy. She had no idea that the normal healthy version of John had secretly hated Kanaan for selfish irrational reasons.

He looked away from her as he focused on sitting up in the bed, his body tingling faintly.

"Ronon stun me?" He asked as he reached down to release his ankles from the last restraints.

"Yes," she replied.

He pulled his feet out from the loosened restraints and bent his knees up, resting his elbows on them as he stretched out his back against the lingering sensation of the stunner.

Teyla stepped away slightly and he looked at her to see her looking towards the far exit, through which John could see the edge of a uniformed shoulder. Great, security was going to be upped again and no doubt Ronon would be accompanying anyone who came in the room again.

He winced at the reverted situation. This morning everyone had been more comfortable around him and Teyla, but that wasn't going to happen again for a while.

Maybe that would mean Kanaan wouldn't be back for a couple of days. John frowned knowing that he was going to have to apologise to the guy. Kanaan had been angry himself though.

John looked round at Teyla again.

"I take it you told him about what happened," he said quietly, not wanting any of this to reach the ears of those outside the curtain across the room.

Her eyes dropped away from his, that discomfort suddenly back in the air between them. "I am sorry that he blamed you," she said though, her gaze lifting to meet his again.

Maybe he had a right to though. John glanced down at his arms, slightly paler this afternoon. The lines between his thoughts and the retrovirus instincts was blurring again. He had been holding a grudge against Kanaan, or rather it was a projected disappointment with himself, but it was there, and when John had lost his temper, it had been driven by his real honest feelings. Just like under the water tank.

He sighed as he turned on the bed, hanging his legs over the side of the bed. Why was life so difficult?

He was free of the restraints and the tingling from the stunner was fading away, but he still felt rather vulnerable and twitchy. He hated self-reflection, because he nearly always ended back in areas that he would sooner forget. Regret and guilt was one thing, but he couldn't really place them on what had happened between him and Teyla. He had enjoyed it far too much, and in that sense, Kanaan had had every right to belt him one.

"If things were different, I would have let him take a swing at me," he confessed to her. He had meant it as a joke, to ease the situation a little, but it fell flat for both of them.

She smiled though, with that distracted, mostly being polite smile of hers. She glanced down at their jigsaw set on the table beside her.

"We decided to end our romantic relationship," she reported, her voice down and sad in a way that stabbed at him, despite the thrill the news also delivered.

John watched her sad expression, desperate to see her smile again, even if it would embarrass him.

"No wonder he went for me," John told her, hoping she would go for the humour again and that she might just smile.

She did faintly. "It was time," she said softly. Then she looked up at him again with some amusement in her eyes. "For the breakup, not for him to attack you."

John chuckled in return. She didn't make as many jokes as he and the others in the team did, but she had a lovely sense of humour, and when she turned it on him, he felt rather special to be subject of her teasing.

It occurred to him then that her teasing might imply more than he had at first thought. Because if Kanaan really did know what had been going through John's mind about Teyla all these years then he might feel very justified in thumping John one. She didn't know that though, so her joke didn't quite make sense. He frowned at her, confused that he had just misread what had felt faintly like flirtation in her comment, but she had turned away, moving around the table and she settled down into her chair in front of the jigsaw.

"We have almost completed this," she remarked as she picked up the box of remaining pieces and shook it to spread out what was inside.

He understood the abrupt turn of conversation – she didn't want to talk about her break up and they both wanted to move on from what had happened today. He appreciated her attempt to help him feel better about what he had done and he could do with distraction himself.

He slid off the side of the bed and headed towards his seat beside her. As he sat down, he found it all rather strange to go from reacting like an animal towards Kanaan, moving through what could have been an uncomfortable conversation with Teyla, to now sitting down with her to continue their jigsaw as if nothing momentous had happened since yesterday.

Life really was strange lately. Though, as he reached into the box for the upper piece of a tree that was missing from the almost complete picture, he guessed that considering the emotional things they had just gone through, it was rather perfect to sit here and focus on something as simple as a jigsaw. It had calmed him yesterday and already he was feeling more relaxed as he pressed the top of the tree into place, completing one area. He smiled at the simple accomplishment, sliding his hand over the completed area.

His embarrassment and discomfort were still present, but in a way they too were becoming annoyingly common for him and, as always, he was good at ignoring feelings. So, he focused on the box between him and Teyla, reaching in to pick up the tail end of the fighter.

He glanced at her beside him, seeing the signs of her sadness in her profile, but like him, she was using the quiet work to distract herself. They were back where they had been yesterday, working beside each other, on the outside everything calm and quiet, but on the inside everything was even more confusing and uncomfortable.

He couldn't change what he'd done, but he could return his focus to the simple task of putting a picture together with her. In fact, he kind of liked the symbolism of it.

0000000

The night was dark around her, the isolation room still and enclosing.

She lay still on her bed, but her chest rose and fell quickly with each faster breath.

Thoughts, memories, and desires, all swirled around her, in her mind and through her body.

They seemed to light up everything, giving sharp focus to everything around her - the folds of the curtains and the smooth surfaces of the walls around her bed.

And the inescapable sound of his breathing.

Her skin felt cool against the air, yet she felt overly warm inside, as if heat were pouring up inside her, electrifying her senses until each faint touch of air against her skin felt like a remembered caress.

His breathing continued steadily, uninterrupted by her turmoil.

The depth of his sleep teased her further to disturb it.

The thought dazzled her senses, and she tossed her bed sheet from over her legs, the fabric cascading from the bed to form a curtain of its own down to the floor as she left her bed.

The beautiful chill of the smooth floor under the soles of her feet cooled her steps, calming her somewhat as she moved towards the curtain that separated her from him.

His breathing was louder here, the thin curtain all that contained it. She listened for any hint that he was awakening, but there was none.

She moved along the fabric wall, towards the alluring gap that would allow her entrance into his space.

She glanced across the dark room behind her. The nurse had been absent since this afternoon, since John had lost his temper, but there were guards outside, too close.

She reached the gap in the curtains, darkness beyond it, filled with the natural scent of him.

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the darker light.

He lay still and restrained at his wrists and ankles again to the bed. His breathing continued steady and soothing to her sensitised nerves.

She moved closer, drawn in by the handsome lines of his body, outlined in the simple white fabric of his clothes. His legs were long, his hips strong yet narrow, his chest toned up to his wide shoulders. His face was relaxed with sleep, his lips slightly parted with his breaths.

Sensations, memories, and desire again swamped her and she closed her eyes as she allowed them forward.

She opened her eyes to the tempting sight of him again, licking her lips at the remembered taste of his skin. She drew in a deep breath of the air around him and his scent was a strong flavour on her tongue.

She stretched out her hand, the blueness of her skin in sharp contrast to the white scrubs, and laid her hand softly on his chest again. His chest rose under her touch, his breath filling his body with life and sustenance.

He felt alive, warm, and tempting under her touch. She slid her hand up his chest, gently and smoothly to feel the contours of him beneath his shirt, up and over to under his left collarbone, where his altered skin was thicker, stronger, and more primitive over the site of her bite.

She felt his breathing shift, growing shallower with his growing wakefulness.

She pulled her hand from him, to set it on the side of his bed, pulling her self up. She set one knee by his leg and reached across to the far side of the bed to swing her other leg over him.

He woke as she settled, knelt above him on his bed, and she leant down over him, her hands supporting her against the thick mattress by his shoulders.

His eyes were dark as they opened, looking up at her with no surprise, no question.

The warmth of his body emanated up around hers, though night air was entering through the gaping neck of her top as it hung from her, grazing chills over her naked breasts and stomach beneath.

His breathing was faster now, his warm breath filling the space to tickle up against her senses.

He shifted under her, tensing against the resistance of his restraints, wanting to reach for her. She let him strain though, keeping their bodies apart for now, allowing her desire to rise, and his to grow in aroused frustration.

She rose up and back on her knees to look down at him as she slid her hands over his shoulders and down his wide strong chest.

His eyes remained on her, the darkness hiding most of his expression, except for the strength of his desire that she remembered so well.

She spread her fingers wide over his middle, thrilling in the power contained in him as he strained against the restraints again to reach up towards her.

His head lifted from the pillow, his neck tense, the lines of muscles corded as he opened his mouth. She reached forward, leaning over him again, bringing her mouth down close to his.

His breath was hot over the skin of her throat as she settled her weight down on his upper thighs.

She lifted a finger to her lips to silence him, to remind him of the audience outside, and his mouth closed slightly, his eyes sliding away towards the hidden exit. A determined focus formed in his expression, one that she remembered, a wild determination that had made him so wonderfully powerful.

She dropped her hand to his chest again, her eyes following the path of her fingers as she ran them down the centre of him. She lifted her eyes to his face as she reached the waistband of his scrubs. He let out a loud hissing breath up at her, his legs lifting up under her backside to tilt her down towards his chest.

She held up from him though, returning her hand to supporting her upper body above him. His eyes were glazed, dark with want, just as they had been before, wanting her, needing her in a way that she had always wished to see.

She lowered her weight, lowering her chest down towards his, fraction by fraction closer to lying over him, towards the promise of pressing her breasts to his straining chest and her belly to the distorted front of his trousers.

His mouth met her cheek, hot and wet, as she lowered herself, her nipples just grazing against the combined meeting of their tops, the heat of his chest an arousing aura lifting to surround her.

Teyla woke abruptly, her grasping breath loud in the silence of the isolation room.

She looked around her, orientating herself to where she was and the truth of reality compared to the fuzzy alluring spell of the dream.

Her awareness of the room returned sharp and feeling entirely real. She relaxed back into her pillow, her hand to her panting chest.

She licked her dry lips, their fullness and sensitivity making the dampness feel cold over them. She focused on that chill, to pull her attention from her overheated body.

She pushed away her bed sheet pressing over her, aware of the sweat across her skin, and rose up on her elbow as she turned and reached for her glass of water on the bedside table. The glass was cold as she gripped it tightly and lifted it to her lips, drinking in several long mouthfuls. The liquid was cool and refreshing, calming her slightly, but she emptied the glass in no time and with dissatisfaction she set it back down on the table. There was a jug on the table, but she turned away and sat up in her bed.

She ran her hands through her hair, pulling it away from her face, as she sought to compose herself. Her breathing was slowing, the sound of her breaths not seeming so overwhelmingly loud in the room any more.

The air and her body quieter, she looked over towards the curtain to her right, straining to listen for signs that John was awake and might have heard her.

All she could hear though was soft steady breathing, though it was more difficult to make it out now than it had been yesterday.

She shifted her attention from the curtain across to the other side, on the other side of which the night shift nurse would be seated. There were faint tapping sounds of fingers tapping on a computer keyboard, the irregular rhythm broken occasionally with small pauses as the nurse considered her next entry.

Teyla felt calmer now, feeling confident that she had not been overheard in her dream.

She let out a longer calmer breath as she closed her eyes, her composure somewhat returned.

She had dreamt of John before, but they had been about his imagined feelings for her, about sharing adventures together and the possibility of a kiss. It had been a while since she had had one of those, the content of which now seemed so demure compared to the one she had just had, though considering what had happened between her and John last week, it was likely that the content of her dreams might indeed change. However, this dream had felt very different to any she had had before. It had been alive and overwhelming in a way that had to be linked to the retrovirus.

She had slept very well the last two nights, though John had been restless. Tonight it seemed that he slept well and she was the one to be woken by unbidden thoughts. She looked over to his curtain with the sudden thought that perhaps he too might have been disturbed by thoughts of her.

She had been thinking earlier in the evening about their interaction before, and how their minds had blended, and so that must have fuelled this dream. It had been her fault for sliding into those memories, allowing herself to wonder for the first time, if perhaps those desires she had sensed in him had been more than simple instinctual reaction during their transformations.

That perhaps he might think of her in more than friendly terms, and that the passion they had shared had been something he had thought about before and since.

She looked at the curtain, the dream resurfacing, mixing reality and fantasy again.

She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

After a few long moments she realised she was breathing in time with his breathing that she could make out through the curtain.

This strange mixture of fantasy and reality was familiar though, for she had been in this threshold before by the water tank, the neural inhibitor fresh in her system. Her fantasies had begun to mix with reality as his hands and breath over her skin had begun to draw her into a living dream that she had longed to experience.

Perhaps he too had felt the same. Perhaps his touch had been driven by fantasies and affection of his own.

What if he too had wanted to experience passion that he had fantasised about?

The compulsion to move to the curtain, as in her dream, had her tightly gripping the bed sheet lying over her lap.

She could not allow these basic drives to rule her, to alter things in a way that she, that he, may regret later. His reaction towards Kanaan today only served to show how much they were still controlled by the retrovirus. It was simply her hormones and the remembered primitive need for a mate that had driven her dream.

Yet, the sound of his breathing, it drew her in, and that she could not hear it so exquisitely clearly as yesterday only tempted her to move closer.

She rose from the bed, giving in to that small part at least, the floor smooth under her bare feet, and she moved slowly and very quietly across the small distance towards his curtain. On the table to her right, the completed jigsaw shone faintly in the light filtering in around the curtains from the Infirmary outside.

She trod quietly and carefully along the curtain towards the gap at the far end. She would just stand outside that break in the curtains for a moment, hear his breathing and know that he was alright. She reached the darkened space between the two edges of pale curtains and she stopped, anxious at her behaviour suddenly, for it too closely replicated her dream.

She strained her hearing and could hear him easier now there was no curtain between them. She held still, fighting against the memory of the dream, her body responding to the memories of it though. She was torturing herself with this, desiring him when it was not how it should be. He was her friend, and it was wrong of her to linger in the doorway to his space.

Yet, perhaps if she looked in on him, she could face what she could not have, that she could repeat her dream and yet turn away, walk away from the situation. She would be in control again.

She stepped quietly forward one more step, turning her body to look into his space, surprised at herself for actually doing so.

He lay in his bed, and unlike the dream, he was not restrained. A sheet lay over him and he was turned onto his side towards the curtain. His dark hair and blue arm was visible against the white bedding and she allowed the true image of him to sink into her. Forcing herself to see the difference between reality and dream.

What would he do if she did walk in there now, to slide herself into the bed with him, pressing her body against his for comfort as much as to quell the desire that was once again rising in her chest, urging her to go to him.

He moved, his grunt of wakefulness breaking his steady breathing, the sound loud in the contained space of the curtains, and his head lifted from the pillow.

Shocked, she started and pulled back from the gap, stepping back away behind the curtain and held still.

00000

He woke with the same abruptness again, his senses sharp and focused in a way that shoved his mind immediately into full consciousness.

The awareness of someone watching him was undeniable. It was a sense that everyone had, but those in his profession trusted deeply.

Keeping still, his eyes moved to the gap between the curtains, expecting to see a nurse or Carson stood there in the strip of faint light. Instead, he saw her familiar shape.

He lifted his head, expecting her to say something, that maybe she had woken him. Except that the air seemed strangely heavy with something, a vibe that had him realising that she had been watching him sleep and that fact hit his body like an electric shock.

His sudden understanding was then confirmed, by her immediate response to seeing him move. The dark outline of her tensed and she abruptly pulled out of view, the room suddenly dropping into complete silence. Even her breathing was absent.

He blinked rapidly as he strained to listen for her. There were no sounds of movement away from the curtain, which meant that she was still just outside the gap in the curtains.

He focused all his senses and attention on that gap, aware that so many hours over the last two nights, he had done just this. He had been fixated on the fact that through that tiny gap was her space, not his. That she slept so close, and that he had slept beside her once. Felt her mouth against his skin, her arms around him. Her sighs of passion had still been lingering in his memory with a hauntingly sharp clarity in these dark quiet times at night.

He blinked to clear his mind from those thoughts now, wondering if perhaps he had imagined her there just now. That his dream had merged with reality in that moment of waking up.

No, it hadn't been a dream, he was sure of it. She had been watching him sleep.

He sat up on the bed, seeking out why he couldn't hear her breathing, guessing that she must be holding her breath or hiding her mouth behind her hand.

Was she restless like he had been? Had she stood looking in on him, filled with desires like that he had felt, wishes wanting to be fulfilled in the darkness of the night.

Her breath was soft when it arrived, and rushed out loudly as if she had been holding it. The sound wavered with emotion, but he couldn't be sure which one it held. But, it sounded conflicted, and the possibilities seeped into him.

The soft sound of her foot pressed against the floor, away from the gap.

He slid off his bed, his attention fixed on the curtain, as he strained his hearing to locate where she was on the other side of the wall of material.

There was the faintest rustle of clothing, as if she was turning, but it was so faint, his hearing barely able to catch the details. Then again, wispy movement, like the ends of her hair brushing over her shoulders, rubbing faintly against the material of her top.

Her breath released again, shuddering slightly, sounding warm and feminine.

He ran his eyes over the dark folds of the curtain, trying to place where she stood behind it.

Could she hear him as he heard her?

Why was she hiding from him?

Why was he frozen in place, cautious and desperately hopeful?

000

She shifted her weight, easing herself away from the curtain, though all of her being was focused on it, or rather on the sound of him behind it.

He had seen her, but he could not know why.

Why was he silent?

Why did it feel like nothing moved but her breath and his?

She closed her eyes, trying to control the rush of sensation. It was the retrovirus, and it could not be trusted. She could not possibly feel aroused simply by overheard breathing and the unseen silent awareness he had of her.

It was not them. They were not themselves.

She had behaved shamefully, looking in on him as he slept, thinking of him tied down under her. They had been Queen-like thoughts, from what she had been. The part of her that had held him down and bitten into his flesh. That was not her.

She would not let it win.

The warm smooth softness of bare feet on floor made her open her eyes, falling to the lower edge of the curtain, expecting to see a shadow or a hint of his toes on the other side. Of course, it was too dark, but she saw the subtlest movement of the curtain, shifted by his closeness.

000

He dipped his eyes down to the small sliver of space below the curtain, but the shadows were faint and indistinct. He could hear her though, hear her breathing clearly now, no longer held or hidden behind her hand.

He moved forward a step, needing to be closer for it might help him to hear her better, to draw her closer, or make sense of this.

She was silent though. Unmoving.

He closed his eyes to the curtain, nothing existing except the delicate faint sounds of her breathing, the brush of her arm against her side, and the softness of one of her feet parting from the floor to touch down again. She was moving away again.

Words hovered on his lips, in his head, in his heart.

Words he hadn't even allowed himself to think before now, inhibited as he had been with his feelings and with Kanaan's presence. She was his friend and she meant so much to him.

The ache in his heart was very real right now. He had lost so much over the years – family, a wife, and friends, he didn't know if he could lose her as well. If he opened that weak vulnerable place inside him to her, it might be broken again, perhaps forever.

Yet, the feelings inside him now were so strong, so forcefully wanting to be spoken.

He had acted on them already though he realised, by that water tank. The inhibitor had still been in his system when he had breathed against her skin and felt her shudder in response. Maybe it was because he had had a taste of what could be between them that explained why he was so ready now to speak to her about it. Knowing Kanaan was out of the picture, and that she had been so near his bed as he slept, for some reason looking in on him.

Earlier he had realised how though the retrovirus had turned him into a dangerous creature, blinding him to friends and danger, it hadn't blinded his feelings for her. It had set them loose, giving him the excuse to express a secret part of himself for the first time to her. To love her when normally he couldn't allow himself to.

There had been nothing abnormal about what he had felt about her by that water tank. He had had an opportunity and uninhibited from his usual baggage and fears, he had simply acted.

The retrovirus hadn't falsified his feelings, it had simply reduced everything down to basics, and he had wanted to hold her, to love her.

And she had responded to him, with inhibitor in her system as well.

He drew in a breath with that clear rationalised thought, and he pulled himself up and back as his mind began to run down the path which that thought led.

As his bug alter ego he had wanted her attention and had pushed for it, seeking his Queen's approval and desire, which was something that he had never done with Teyla before. He had kept back from her, enjoying her company and friendship, but pulling back from pursuing anything more. Because he hadn't wanted that kind of commitment yet, that much emotion in his life, and because rejection was something that hurt him at his core. Long ago, he had been rejected by too many people who said they had loved him, and being honest with himself he knew he didn't want to go anywhere near that kind of hurt again. But, that isolation had cut him off from some real potential he had had with Teyla, and when Kanaan and Torren had arrived, John had realised that there was something even worse than rejection.

He had never painted himself a coward, but in regards to Teyla, he knew he had been. The retrovirus had allowed out a part of him that had desperately wanted a second chance. He had rushed for it willingly, with both hands, desperate for some connection with her again, even if it was fleeting. He could remember those feelings, basic and simpler than he now understood them, but no less true.

It hadn't really been his second chance though, this was. She was single again and there was a very real chance that she did in fact care for him in return. How much of her response to him by the water tank had been her true feelings and how much the urge to mate, he couldn't be sure. There had to have been something real in there, didn't there?

And if there had been, he wasn't going to back away from it this time.

Yet, she was hiding now, holding back as he was, for things were confusing and restless at the moment.

Was she held still on the other side of the curtain, like him, because she too was caught in that fuzzy line between retrovirus and truth? Where the retrovirus ended and their real feelings began was something that was becoming clearer with each day though, and in less than two weeks they would be completely human again. That prospect was even more appealing suddenly. Then, it would be clear, from then onwards, that the retrovirus was in the past.

The idea of her being worried, confused, and conflicted bothered him, and he realised that his presence hovering opposite her on the other side of the curtain likely wasn't helping. She had just split up with Kanaan today, and he knew that she wouldn't start anything new with someone else so soon anyway.

He had to back off, despite the tickling sensation down his backbone that felt far too familiar.

As a bug, he had pushed for her attention, but as a man he would give her the space she needed to get over Kanaan, but at the same time he was going to take full advantage of the fact that the two of them would be living together for the rest of their treatment. Time would pass, the dust would settle, and he would make damn sure he was the best version of himself around her, and when normal life returned, he would finally find out how she felt about him.

He looked at the dark wall of material that was the curtain between them, and he turned away. He made no attempt to keep quiet as he walked back to his bed and climbed back onto it. He settled down, pulling the bed sheet back over him and he plumped up his pillow some more before he rested his head down.

About five minutes passed before he heard her footsteps moving away from the curtain, then the creak of her bed as she climbed back onto it.

He hoped she didn't feel embarrassed about him catching her watching him, because he didn't care, he would quite happily allow her to watch him sleep. From right beside him if she wanted. He smiled at his thoughts, which were rather positive now. Tomorrow he would behave as if nothing had happened tonight, and he would start trying to control himself more. The sooner he returned to himself the better, because he had plans now.

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TBC


	18. Aftermath

**Note: **Thank you for all the last chapter's emails and reviews. I apologise that I have not had time to reply to them, but thank you each and every one of you. Life continues to be very busy and stressful in an entirely new way this week, and I have struggled to have enough time to edit or write anything. I will continue determinedly with this fic though, even if I end up only posting one chapter a week – though I plan otherwise.  
Oh and a call out of thanks to Camy for all her current JT work, and for those looking to join in the upcoming Christmas season JT style, please join up with the Elf fun at the Beya LJ site currently open for people to join.

Infection

Chapter Eighteen - Aftermath

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The melancholy had been with her since she had woken this morning. It was perhaps the natural response to the breaking of a relationship, but being contained within one room, with no true privacy allowing her to express her sadness properly, the melancholy had grown heavier in her chest as the day progressed.

What had helped had been the fact that John seemed in a more relaxed, almost cheerful mood today, which surprised her considering what had occurred yesterday.

When she had first seen him this morning, when he pulled back the curtain between them for the arrival of breakfast, she had worried at how he would react to what had happened late last night. In the light of morning, her actions last night had seemed abstract and very unlike herself, and she had worried how John would interpret their silent standoff last night. She had prepared her explanation as to why she had been looking in on him last night, and why she had hidden from him behind the curtain when he had seen her. However, he had said nothing to her this morning, not even in passing or in a subtle questioning look in his eyes. Instead, he seemed almost oblivious to what had occurred and she had begun to wonder if she had misinterpreted what had happened herself. Perhaps he had simply woken to see her moving around near the entrance to his sleeping area and had worried that she was all right. He may have simply been concerned enough to get up from his bed, but when she had hidden from him, he had returned to his bed, presumably to leave her to her restlessness.

His lack of reaction to what had felt to her late in the night to have been a powerful standoff, today seemed to have become nothing. At least to him. She should have felt relieved, for she had been ready with her excuses, but John seemed relaxed and more his usual self today. However, her emotions were so troubled enough today that she soon moved away from those planned excuses, as John seemed happy to do, and onto the new changes to her life as of yesterday and her breakup with Kanaan.

What she struggled the most with, was the conflicting intensity of her mood that was likely due to the retrovirus' influence. She had handled great changes, losses, and tragedies in her life and had handled them, so her tangled self-focus today and sullen reaction to her situation, made her conclude her emotions were still heavily influenced by the retrovirus. That awareness did not lessen their affect though.

She had attempted to distract herself by pulling out the sewing she had asked Kanaan to bring her, but when she had laid out the fabric, seeing the outline of Torren's coat made her miss her son so desperately that she had to quickly packed it all away, forcing herself to push back the tears that threatened to spill free. She had visited the bathroom, needing the limited time of solitude in which to allow some of her tears free.

Sitting back on her bed, she felt more in control of her emotions, yet the heavy melancholy lingered as the hours passed, tiring her and making her unable to converse properly. Even Rodney and Ronon's visit had not been able to lift her spirits. It had pained her further when she had noticed a pointed look exchanged between her friends, and she had tried to behave more cheerfully, asking questions about what was occurring in the city outside of the isolation room. Their stories had helped somewhat, but with the arrival of lunch, they had left and she had retreated into her inner solitude once more.

Her lunch long finished, she had tried to read a magazine to distract herself, but her mind was completely folded in on her turning thoughts and low mood. As time passed, she realised how quiet and sullen her company must be for John to share. Feeling guilty at leaving him with no discussion, she looked round to where he sat at the table between their beds. He sat on the far side facing her, though his attention was focused down on the table, drawing with one of the large colouring crayons Rodney had brought them as a joke gift. After yesterday's aggression and guilt, John's silence today seemed drastically different. That he was focusing so intently on his drawing was new as well and the sight of him concentrating so carefully and quietly, something neither of them had achieved at all until now, she felt a rush of affection for him. He shifted a piece of paper in front of him as he set down the bright yellow crayon he had been using and picked up a red crayon. He did not look up from the table as he set the red crayon to the paper, and she saw a twist of amusement to his expression as he began drawing. She envied him that amusement and that he now seemed able to focus on a task for an extended length of time.

She looked back down at the colourful magazine on her lap, which seemed far beyond her ability to focus upon. It may be that her low feelings and preoccupation were blocking her concentration to read such simple text. She glanced at John again, his head bent over his work. She wondered if his unusual silence may in fact be for her sake and, though that thought touched her and urged her to try to talk to him, she still could not seem to pull herself out of her gloom to do so. Silence had always been an important aspect of life for her and she had never shied away from it. Her father had taught her from a young age that someone unable to sit in silence was someone who was hiding from something within themselves. It seemed that in her silence today she was unable to hide from anything. All her conflicting emotions and decisions seemed to all be struggling to be heard.

She looked back to her magazine, away from the sight of John who represented so much of the emotional content that confused her, and made herself focus on the magazine page before her. It displayed a beautiful sandy beach with a couple reclining in the sunshine. It was perhaps not the best image to help her relax today.

She turned over the page only to be confronted with a questionnaire that promised to rate how passionate one's relationship was. She turned over that page as well.

It was not as if she had spent very much time with Kanaan of late, and they had been far from content with each for some time, yet the loss was strong. He would always be a part of her life as Torren's father and hopefully her continuing friend, but the prospect of any kind of happy future with him was long past. She knew she had never really been invested in such a normal Athosian future and she felt rather guilty about that. She had hurt him emotionally, and possibly frightened him yesterday with her aggressive reaction to his and John's fight. She could not blame Kanaan for his anger after she had not only ended their relationship, but had told him of what had occurred between her and John. She blamed herself for what had happened, for John's reaction, for Kanaan's, and today she truly did not like herself very much.

She sighed at herself. These were not healthy thoughts and not like her usual self. To help lift her mood she needed to alter her thinking. She had made her choices and she could not regret them now. Regret would not bring Torren to her any quicker, and in fact, yesterday's incident might prolong the time till she was able to hold her boy again. That thought brought back the burning dampness in her eyes.

She turned another page of the magazine to reveal a display of varying clothing styles. She ran her eye over them all, forcing herself to focus on the pictures to complete the simple task of picking out her favourites. The next pages held more displays of differing tops and skirts, and she repeated her task of selecting what she would choose to wear. Continuing in that fashion, she managed to distract much of her attention finally as she lost herself in the many pages of colours and designs. Which style of shoes did she like most on the next page, which belt, which necklace – it was a simple and strangely engaging way to distract herself.

She rather liked Earth styles of clothing, though admittedly they seemed to include almost any design or coloured patterns it seemed. She missed wearing her own clothes, having spent days in medical scrubs. John had said the same this morning and they had asked about getting their clothes. Carson had seemed happy to allow it now and asked them to write a list of what they wanted and select someone to pack the items in their quarters for them. Carson had agreed to pack John's things for him and Teyla had asked if Jennifer would do the same for her, so hopefully by tonight or early tomorrow she and John would both be able to wear their own clothes again.

It would not be the same as being in her own quarters or having Torren in her arms, but it would help.

The sound of a crayon being set down with a flourish drew her attention from her magazine and her once again wandering thoughts. She looked round at John to see him smiling.

"This should save us some time, especially when the others start visiting," he said with a sparkle in his eyes as he picked up his sheet of white paper and turned it for her to see. He had used a red crayon to write across it in block lettering:

_The Retrovirus made me do it_

She grinned at the statement and the wealth of subtext it included for the two of them over the last few days. Her amusement was in such stark contrast to how she had been feeling that it was almost shocking for her and threatened to bring on her tears again. She held that reaction back though.

John grinned as he stood up. "I'm thinking we should put it here," he held the piece of paper up against the section of curtain that was the temporary wall beyond the table.

She smiled wider as she nodded. "I think that would be an excellent idea."

"Just need something to stick it up with," John muttered as he turned, scanning the small limited area that was their current home.

"I have something," Teyla suggested as she turned back to her bag of sewing. She reached down into it and pulled out her small pouch of pins. "Use as many as you wish," she said as she held out the pouch.

"Ah, perfect," John replied with enthusiasm as he approached and took the pouch from her. He didn't move away from her bedside though, instead he pulled out four pins and closed up the pouch again. "Thanks."

She took it back from him with a smile as he turned back towards the curtain. She tucked the pouch away again with her sewing, and watched as John secured the paper sign to the curtain quickly and efficiently with the pins. His arms looked slightly paler today she noted, though his left was still far darker then the right, as were his chin and neck. She looked down at her arms and ran her right hand over her left forearm, feeling the differences to her skin. She could see the blue was lessening, her skin growing softer. She traced her fingertips along the edge of a darker blue stripe that was still visible across her outer forearm.

She wondered if others still found her appearance shocking. Would Torren?

She desperately wanted to see her son, but she did not want to frighten him. Perhaps the likely delay following yesterday would be beneficial in that it would allow her to change even further before she saw Torren again. She did not want to look like a monster to him.

"How are we both?" Carson announced as he entered the room.

Teyla offered Carson a smile, forcing more cheerfulness into it than she truly felt. He had been so good to them, always calm and patient with them both, and had been very understanding about what had happened yesterday.

"Any more apologies? Or are you finally all out?" Carson asked with amusement.

She and John had apologised profusely for their behaviour yesterday to everyone involved, other than Kanaan who had already left after the incident. Carson, being around them the most, had been on the receiving end of their apologies the most.

"No need, I've made it simpler now," John replied from his seat at the table, where he was pointing towards his retrovirus sign.

"Ah, good idea," Carson chuckled at the sign. "Leadership skills returning already I see."

"And look," John extended his right arm, crayon still in his hand, as he rubbed his left fingers against the back of his lower right forearm. "Arm hair," he announced with clear delight.

Carson moved further towards the table and leant forward to closely examine John's offered arm. "Aye, properly on the road to recovery now," he reflected with amusement.

John just smiled, too happy in the return of his arm hair to be bothered by the teasing.

"Not much there though," Carson added.

John narrowed his eyes as he pulled his arm back. "That's still more than you've got."

"Any chest hair yet?" Carson asked in response.

John looked pointedly back down at the table away from Carson. "It'll grow back," he muttered as he set his crayon back to the book in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Carson asked with bemused curiosity.

"Rodney brought us a kid's colouring book and crayons as a joke," John informed him as he picked up the colouring book and turned it for them to see. "Joke's on him now."

The page of the colouring book had a bold simple outline of a farmer stood in front of a large windmill. John had coloured in the large design with bold colours, having added far more complex shading than a child would be capable, but he had gone beyond that and added his own touches to the picture. The farmer had clearly been turned into a caricature of Rodney. The farmer held an open laptop in one hand and his hairline had been altered to resemble Rodney's. There was also a large speech bubble drawn out from the farmer's mouth in which were listed various common Rodney-style complaints about mud, lack of coffee and Ronon. Teyla could not help grinning at the image and Carson laughed loudly.

"What are these things?" Carson asked pointing to several bags drawn at farmer Rodney's feet.

"Bags of lemons. He's a lemon farmer," John replied with a cheeky grin.

Carson chuckled again. "Poor Rodney."

"Hey, he started it with the crayons," John argued as he set the book back down.

"Seems to be entertaining you though," Carson pointed out.

John glared up at him. "You wanna be next in the book?" He threatened.

Clearly amused, Carson looked away from John to Teyla. "I feel sorry for you stuck in here with him."

Teyla smiled back, enjoying their banter.

"You want to be a fisherman, a baker, or a cow?" John asked Carson as he looked up from the next pages of the colouring book. Teyla laughed, her friends playfulness lightening her heart.

"I came by to tell you both that I'm heading out with a team in an hour," Carson said, purposefully ignoring John's question. "There's been another outbreak of the respiratory virus that's been bothering the survivors of the Hoffan plague. Jennifer's asked me to call on a village that I've visited before. Jennifer will look after you both tonight and possibly tomorrow morning, depending on how long the mission lasts."

"Which team are you going with?" John asked with the tone of a leader, despite the fact that he was sat in scrubs with a yellow crayon in his hand.

"Walker's team, so I'll be fine," Carson replied.

"Good," John replied.

"I'm going to head over to your quarters now and pack up what you wanted," Carson said to John before he turned to Teyla. "And Jennifer will visit your quarters later, Teyla, and she'll bring it all in this evening."

"Thank you, Carson," Teyla told him, and he smiled his soft kind smile in response.

"Now, you two are to behave yourselves while I'm away," he ordered with a parental tone.

"What colours are in a kilt again?" John asked as he looked up from the selection of crayons.

Carson shook his head as he turned away. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

"Good luck, Carson," Teyla called after him.

"Watch your back," John called with a touch of concern in his voice.

"Aye, I will," Carson replied with a smile as he headed out of the room and disappeared through the curtains outside.

Worry niggled at Teyla. She was not used to remaining so out of touch with the larger picture of what was occurring in Atlantis, with the teams and her friends. Worried about Carson's safety she had to remind herself that he had much in the way of field experience now and he would have a good team looking after him.

She suspected that it would have been her and John's team that would have accompanied Carson normally and the sense of uselessness washed over her. She wished she had something constructive to do at least, even though she knew she did not have the concentration for such a thing yet. Even a magazine appeared too much for her, holding her attention for only a few minutes at a time. She frowned down at the colourful pages, bored and faintly annoyed with it now. She closed it up and tossed it to the end of her bed. She glanced back down at her sewing, but still could not face the emotions too linked in with working on her absent son's clothes.

John sighed from the far side of the table and she looked round to see he too appeared to have lost interest in his project.

"He'll be alright," John said as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. His frown was directed towards the exit through which Carson had left.

"He will be fine," Teyla agreed with more confidence than she had actually been feeling.

John nodded, but did not appear all that convinced. He looked down at the table before him, and then angled his head to look further down at the full shelf set under the table's surface.

"You wanna play cards?" He asked, his eyes lifting to meet hers. She felt their focus strangely, as if there was something different about them today. His human shaped pupils, like hers, had returned before they had woken from their sedation. Perhaps it was that the blue around his eyes had lessened, which made his gaze seem different somehow. She looked to the collection of entertainment cluttering the table's shelf.

"I am not sure I could focus enough to play cards," she admitted.

"Yeah, me neither," John muttered. He leant forward and his hands slid into her view, moving through the magazines and boxes, lifting them each in turn as he searched for something interesting. "I can't face a board game either, or chess. How about a movie?" He suggested with more interest.

Though the DVDs had been on the shelf for two days now, it was only now that the prospect interested her as well.

"What is there to watch?" She asked.

John pulled out the stack of DVDs. He shuffled through them with a frown. "I think someone's been screening what we can watch, these are mostly Disney, animation, or light comedy. Oo, Monsters vs. Aliens. This is good," John announced with a smile as he pointed to the movie in his hand.

She looked at the brightly animated picture on the DVD cover and decided that it could be very good for her right now to watch something that was simple and light-hearted.

"Very well," she agreed as she sat up to move off her bed.

John pulled out his laptop from the shelf and set it on the table where their jigsaw had sat until this morning. As he booted up the computer, she pulled a chair forward, back into the same place where she had sat with John to complete the jigsaw. She sat down and then rose again to pick up one of her pillows to cushion her back in the chair. As she attempted to arrange the pillow behind her shoulders for the most comfort, John pulled his chair up next to hers and sat down beside her as they had done yesterday. However, today, as with his gaze, his presence felt different somehow. She suspected that these feelings were likely just due to her dream last night. John sat forward and she watched as he pulled open the DVD case. His hands were almost entirely back to his normal colour, though there was some faint blue shading around his knuckles and wrists. She tracked her gaze up his closest forearm to where the blue skin began, noticing for herself the new hair growth.

He pulled the DVD disc out of the case, holding it with an expert hold so as not to touch the underside, but paused. She looked up to see his questioning look at her attention. Flushing slightly at having been seen studying his skin so closely she smiled at him and herself.

"I was just looking at your new arm hair," she told him honestly, but added some humour into her tone.

He smiled with exaggerated pride as he looked away and he set the disc into the computer tray and pushed it shut. "You seen this movie?"

"Not that I recall. Did it play at a Movie Night?" She asked as she adjusted her pillow behind her again, the frustration of her scrubs and the uncomfortable plastic chair annoying her briefly.

"I think so, but I don't remember you being there that night," he replied as he sat back beside her, movie advertisements starting on the small screen before them.

She was impressed by his memory to recall if she had been there or not, though he did tend to take on the role of explaining Earth story points for her. If she was confused by a plot point in a movie, she would ask him first, and if he was sat beside her, as was common on Movie Nights, she would often lean closer and whisper her question. He always seemed happy to whisper an explanation back.

Finally settled into a comfortable enough position in her seat, she stretched out her legs, but the floor was cool under her bare feet. Hopefully by tonight she would have some of her own warm socks to wear again, but until then she only had the offer of the paper slippers patients could wear in the Infirmary. Unwilling to wear the paper slippers, she instead lifted her legs and set her feet down on the shelf under the table. The magazines piled up on the shelf made a warm and comfortable enough support for her heels. Beside her, John copied her, his legs stretching out further under the table.

He let out a sigh beside her, not one of frustration as was usual lately, but one that sounded more contented. She looked round at him sat right beside her and he looked round at her with a smile. She was so used to his blue complexion now that she barely noticed it. His eyes however, held a new warmth and understanding that made her suspect that she was not controlling her melancholy as well as she had hoped. She wondered then if he had chosen this movie to cheer her up more than he had wished to see it himself.

As the opening cheerful music of the movie started he looked away, but she could not seem to pull her eyes from him entirely. She had wished for solitude today, but now sat beside him she realised that this was far better. In his presence, she would be kept distracted from the weighted confused emotions and thoughts driven by the retrovirus. And she would be here for him as well.

Despite all the chaos and injuries that this retrovirus situation had caused, she felt immensely grateful that she was not alone and that she had such a good friend to sit beside her through this. She may feel sad today, but she was very blessed in her life. She had to remember that and to embrace the good things in her life. And John Sheppard, her friend and colleague who had gone through great strife with her so recently, was one of the most cherished elements of her life.

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TBC


	19. Time

**Note:** Yet again another big break between chapters. It's been a real busy couple of weeks and next week looks set to be even more so! I've been snatching short breaks to write, but in typical form when you need to write fast, you hit a chapter that refuses to work properly and needs re-writing about ten times! I've done my best with time and energy available and have had enough of this chapter, so finally here is chapter 19. Apologies to those waiting for new chapters, life is just so unpredictable at the moment, but I'll get there. Thanks to everyone who has been writing to me with reviews and best wishes. Hope everyone is enjoying the winter weather :)

Infection

Chapter Nineteen - Time

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The flutter of the door's high-pitched chimes was excessively loud as it echoed around the inside of Carson's still sensitive head. It was however, a welcome diversion away from his rather uninspiring small breakfast.

Groaning with the effort, he stood up from the table and walked across his quarters to his waiting door. Despite the slow start it felt good to be moving around properly again. At the door, he waved his hand over the doors' lock and they slid open to reveal Jennifer's smiling greeting.

"Good morning, Carson," she said.

"Mornin', Jennifer," he replied with a smile of his own.

"You're looking much better today," Jennifer reflected as she stepped into his room as he turned and headed back to his meagre breakfast.

"Aye, much better today," Carson agreed as he waved her towards a free chair as he sat back down before the largest breakfast he had managed in days. She pulled her chair up near the table to sit closer to him with the familiarity of their growing friendship.

He picked up his fork and contemplated the rest of his scrambled eggs. "My appetite isn't quite back yet though." He set the fork back down and decided to stick with the toast for now.

"I'm not surprised. It's a real nasty stomach flu," Jennifer agreed.

"Aye, you're telling me," Carson smiled at her as he nibbled at the end of a piece of toast. "Did the latest team come back from the village? Any signs of flu?" He asked. He had been worrying about that these past days, in the moments he had been able to think clearly around the high fever, sickness, and sleeping.

It had only been on his way back from the visit to the Merian village, to see to their outbreak of urti's, that he had begun to feel rather unwell, and by the time they had stepped through the gate back into the city he had been feeling very nauseous. The stomach flu that had been slowly creeping through the city had found him. Consequently, he had spent the last four days shut away in his quarters, throwing up, sleeping or worrying about the villagers, and John and Teyla. Oh and feeling rather sorry that he had put that bet on Rodney's lab being the next to be hit with the flu virus. Turn around was fair play it seemed.

"No signs, but your team were all wearing face masks and gloves so it should all be fine," Jennifer replied reasonably, as she had yesterday and the day before that during her visits.

"That was mainly to teach the villagers the importance of using them, wake up call for us really," Carson muttered.

"Five more people from the labs have the flu as well," Jennifer said as she leant her elbow on the table and eyed up the remainder of his untouched breakfast.

"Help yourself," Carson offered waving to the last of the eggs, bacon, and the bowl of untouched fruit that sat on the corner of his tray closest to her.

"I was thinking of taking the leftovers down to the isolation room for Teyla and Colonel Sheppard," she replied with a grin, even though she reached forward for a slice of apple.

"They're still eating more than normal?" Carson asked.

"Oh, yes," Jennifer replied. "In fact a tray of untouched cake slices disappeared the other evening in the Infirmary."

Carson chuckled, though it did start him coughing a bit. "Colonel Sheppard?"

"He just pointed to that sign he's got up in there – 'the retrovirus made me do it'," she replied with a grin as she picked up another slice of apple and bit into it loudly.

"There's a lot of cellular activity going on, it's no wonder they're so hungry," he replied. "Unlike me," he added with a frown down at his toast. "How are they doing?"

Everyday he had asked after John and Teyla, but through his fever and sickness, he couldn't quite remember all the details she had given him. Jennifer had flat out refused to bring him any written reports, saying that he should be resting and that his nursing team were perfectly capable of looking after his patients.

"Brilliantly," she replied. "All their tests are coming back as expected, all on track."

"Have you started to reduce the stem cell doses yet?" He asked as he dropped his toast slice onto the tray and pushed it away from him.

"No, I thought it best to wait for you to take a look. We've got plenty of cells to use and everything is going as planned so far."

Carson nodded. He regretted missing four days, but he was feeling recovered enough today to get back to work. He was looking forward to getting back into his lab and seeing his friends in the isolation room.

"Has Kanaan visited again?"

"Yes," Jennifer replied with a pointed look. "He visited yesterday with Halling and it seemed to go okay. Colonel Sheppard spent the hour they visited working out on the treadmill in the physio's room."

"What about Torren?" Carson asked.

"Kanaan is bringing him to visit for the first time tomorrow. Teyla has been a little anxious that her appearance might scare little Torren, but she's looking more like her usual self now, and the flu patients staying in the Infirmary are down to one, so Kanaan seemed happy to bring him in tomorrow."

"That's really good to hear," Carson said with a smile. He had hoped to see the little boy himself and he knew how important the reunion between mother and son would be. It would no doubt help Teyla's recovery greatly. "Teyla seem any brighter yet?"

Jennifer rocked her head in a vague nod as she reached for another piece of apple. "Sort of. She and Kanaan have definitely broken up," she said, confirming Carson's theory.

"Ah, that's a shame," Carson reflected. "But, not all that surprisingly considering how little he's been in the city these past months."

"I know, but she seemed more cheerful this morning. Rodney and Ronon have been visiting more to help distract her, and I think Colonel Sheppard's company helps."

Carson nodded. He suspected that trying to cheer Teyla up had been giving John something to focus on outside of his own recovery. However, he suspected it would be Torren's presence that would truly lift Teyla's spirits properly.

"I'd agreed to allow some open visiting hours and it seems like half of the military staff have dropped in to see them over the last two days."

"That's good to hear, though I imagine John didn't just point to his sign in apologising to them."

"No. I think it overwhelmed them both at first at the amount of injuries they had caused, but everyone's seems to be seeing the humour in what happened."

Carson nodded. It was good that no one was holding any grudges towards John or Teyla, because there had been some serious fractures. Everyone had recovered, though there were still a lot of people walking round with casts and splints in place and on light duties, but everyone understood the situation. All those in the city knew how crazy and bizarre life could be out here in the Pegasus galaxy. He felt rather proud of everyone, how efficiently everything had gone and he was so pleased that his absence hadn't delayed the treatments in any way. In fact, his breakfast over, it was time to head back to his lab.

"I might as well head up there now," Carson stated as he brushed his lap free of toast crumbs and stood up.

"Are you sure you're well enough?" Jennifer asked with that familiar doctor's tone that he had used so many times himself.

"You know as well as I do, that I was more infectious before I started showing symptoms than I am now," he replied as he moved away to fetch his jacket.

"I'm more concerned about you overdoing it, Carson," she replied as she moved across the room with him towards the door.

"John and Teyla haven't shown any signs of the flu?" He asked as he slipped his radio earpiece around his ear.

"No, though Nurse Mattie from your team is off sick today, possibly flu. I put Nass in his place, didn't think you'd mind."

"No, that's great. Nass can work all the blood screens herself with her haematology background," Carson agreed as he waved open his door and stepped out into the corridor, out of his quarters for the first time in four days. It felt good.

"I don't think we need to worry about Teyla and the Colonel catching the flu, their immune systems are so active at the moment that I doubt a simple flu virus would have any chance," Jennifer reflected as she walked alongside him.

"True," Carson considered as he flexed his back as he walked. It felt very good to be moving about, but he did feel that deep tiredness such an acute illness could cause. At least working up in the Infirmary, he only had to sit in the lab and walk the tiny distance to the isolation room. He would feel better at returning to his patients and friends anyway.

As they headed through the corridors, almost everyone they passed asked how he was feeling, which made him feel even better about being up and about.

"I was surprised that Rodney visited me this morning, even brought me my breakfast," Carson reported as they reached the closest transporter that would take them up to the Infirmary floor. He would use the stairs on the way back down for the exercise, but on the way to work, he would take the easy route.

"He hasn't shown a single sign of the flu, despite being around several people who've had it," Jennifer replied with a grin. "I told him I think he's already had it and is immune."

The transporter doors opened on the new level and they headed out together. "He's still having aches and pains though right?" Carson predicted with a smile.

"Of course. He's apparently had a headache for days, but he seems just fine to me."

The Infirmary entrance ahead, Carson felt his tiredness dropping away and as they entered, he was greeting with more smiles and welcomes. It took him a good ten minutes of catching up with people until he broke free and finally headed towards the curtains to the isolation room. The first thing he noticed as he approached the curtains was that there were no guards stationed outside, which was surprising. However, as soon as he pushed aside the curtain section, he understood why.

The isolation room was busy; the guards were sitting along with Major Lorne and Ronon alongside John and Teyla. They were all watching the laptop sat on top of the table.

Teyla was the first to see him and she looked round with a large smile, her hand poised halfway to her mouth from the large bowl of popcorn on her lap. "Carson!" She smiled wider, her face though still blue, was far lighter, her own colouring mottling among the blue.

All eyes turned to him as he entered and he was met with smiles and greetings.

"Hey, Carson, how you feeling?" John asked as he leant forward and paused the movie they were watching.

"Much better, thank you all," Carson replied. "And I see things are more relaxed in here too." He lifted an eyebrow at the guards, who both looked faintly guilty.

"We're on a break, besides we're watching them," Lieutenant McKenzie argued where he sat looking very comfortable, hugging another bowl of popcorn.

"Besides, we're watching Avatar," Major Lorne grinned as he pointed to the laptop screen.

"Someone thought it would be funny," John added with a pointed glare at McKenzie, who shrugged.

"Come on you got to admit, you two looked pretty close to these guys," McKenzie argued with a grin as he gestured at the screen with a handful of popcorn.

Carson moved further into the room alongside Teyla's bed so that he could see the laptop screen himself. "Is it good? I haven't seen it," he asked as he spied the blue alien faces on the small screen.

"Colonel Sheppard looks a bit girly in it," Major Lorne teased.

John turned in his chair to look at Lorne perched on a bedside table behind him. "I looked nothing like this guy, besides I beat you up pretty good didn't I?"

"Stunned him," McKenzie corrected and they all chuckled. "Twice, wasn't it, Major?"

"How long is that going to be funny?" Lorne asked with forced patience.

"Until you stop the bug and Avatar jokes," John replied.

"Don't make that deal, Major," Lieutenant Rogers added his opinion.

John glared back round at Rogers. "Shouldn't you be on guard outside, Lieutenant? You know how unpredictable Teyla and I can be."

Rogers held up his hands, one of which had three of his fingers strapped together from his run in with the unpredictable John over a week ago.

"They're still a bit sensitive about the whole bug thing," McKenzie told Carson with a smile as he gestured towards John and Teyla. "They've had to apologise to a lot of people."

"Twice to Major Lorne," Rogers put in with a smile.

"I'm sure everyone understands," Carson replied in his patients' defence though he couldn't quite hide his smile. He was so pleased to see John and Teyla so relaxed, to see the clear signs of the return of the friends he knew so well.

"It is good to have you back, Carson," Teyla said with another one of her large smiles.

Carson returned her smile. She sat right beside Lieutenant Rogers and John, Lorne right behind her. Four days ago she would never have sat so close to others, but here she was clearly relaxed and at ease.

She and John were both dressed in their own clothes now, the long sleeves and higher necks of the tops hiding the progress of their skin's recovery, but Carson had all the twice-daily reports to fill in that information for him. The isolation room itself had altered, with a few scatter cushions, likely from Teyla's quarters, set on the chairs and on her bed along with a dark green throw. On the bedside table beside Lorne, there stood two candles and a clock. It looked more like a hotel room than a hospital room, but Carson didn't mind.

The atmosphere of the room was dramatically different and something deep inside him relaxed in response. He had known they were on the path to recovery, had seen it in the test results and in the change to their appearance even before his illness, but seeing them behaving more like themselves was far more satisfying than any blood test result.

000000

The isolation room was quiet around John as he scraped up the last crumbs of the cake that had been the extra dessert included with lunch. Michaels in charge of catering had heard about John's little cake heist the other night it turned out, because there were two desserts included with today's lunch, one of them being a slice of chocolate cake. It had been a good cake too. The slice could have been larger though in John's opinion.

Unbidden he glanced over towards Teyla's untouched lunch, the plastic cover over the tray clear enough for him to see the outline of her extra dessert as well.

They hadn't seen the end of Avatar as Woolsey had arrived to see how they were doing. Rogers and McKenzie had hurried back to their posts, and Ronon and Lorne had drifted away. Once Woolsey had gone, Teyla had headed out to the physio's room for her morning workout that she had missed when McKenzie had appeared earlier with the Avatar DVD. In fact, she had been gone quite some time, John realised. He slid his gaze from her tray to the clock set on the table beside her bed. Over forty minutes he was sure. He looked back to her lunch. It would be getting cold. He looked towards the door.

He was tempted to go and get her, but didn't want to interrupt her workout time. He wondered if she enjoyed running on the treadmill as much as he did. Despite feeling so much more like himself, he still felt the rush and enjoyment in running just as he had felt running through all those corridors with her out on the pier. There was something about letting himself just run flat out, the feeling of freedom and power it represented that was so exhilarating. When his life had been limited down to only the isolation room, the thrill of being in another room and able to run with abandon…it made it all bearable. Not that living alongside Teyla wasn't enjoyable, but it was tough at times to be stuck in here, knowing that everyone else was free to move around the city.

There was alot he liked about being stuck in here though. Spending literally all the hours of the day with Teyla was turning out to be as enjoyable as he had hoped. Their friendship was holding, stronger than ever he felt, and the unmentioned elephant in the room had been pushed aside to the wall allowing them to enjoy each other's company without any remaining tension or embarrassment. He had made sure to behave as normally as he could with her, working to keep her cheerful, yet give her the space she wanted. It was surprisingly easy to be relaxed around her. He even liked the long silences that she enjoyed. He wasn't usually used to long stretches without conversation, but there were enough distractions to keep him busy, and if his attention wandered he would allow himself to watch her out of the corner of his eye. He wondered if some of her returning natural patience was rubbing off on him.

There was something very enjoyable about feeling relaxed and calm now, as compared to the restlessness and agitation from before. There were times when some of the restless agitation returned, especially in the nights. It still kept him awake sometimes and his mind would turn back onto details of that day when he had been able to hold her finally, to touch her. Thinking of their time under the water tank wasn't helpful though and the fact that he could no longer hear her breathing across the isolation room bothered him. He missed the super powers. He still felt powerful when he ran though and it was a potentially addictive feeling, which was why he limited himself to a strict time limit on the treadmill.

He looked back to the clock to see that it had been a good forty-five minutes now since she had left for her workout. He was certain that he hadn't heard her pass by outside towards the bathroom for her shower, and besides McKenzie and Rogers would have told her that her lunch was waiting for her if she had.

He would give her another fifteen minutes before he went to get her.

He set his empty lunch tray aside and reached for the stack of cards he had put aside when the food had arrived. As he split the deck of cards and shuffled them together, he considered sending a message to her through Rogers outside, but he didn't like the idea of any other guy interrupting her running time.

He shuffled the cards once more and then began dealing them out across the table to play Patience. He could play it on the laptop, but he had like using the real cards lately, sitting at the table talking with Teyla. Being by himself right now, he quickly lost himself into his game.

After a surprisingly easy round of Patience, he gathered up the cards, mixed them up and shuffled several times, purposefully not looking at the clock to his left. The next spread of cards weren't so simple so he sat absorbed into the game, jaw in one hand the other hand moving over the cards, sorting and arranging. Admitting defeat finally to the spread, he gathered them all together and finally allowed himself to look at the clock. Just over an hour had passed since she had left, so he felt fully justified in getting up from the table to go find her.

Not that there were all that many places she could be and as soon as Rogers parted the section of curtain for him, he saw that McKenzie was still sat across the width of the Infirmary where the entrance to the physio's room was located. She was still in there.

"Teyla still using the treadmill?" John asked casually of Lieutenant Rogers.

"Yes, Sir," the young Lieutenant answered. He had been with the expedition a long time. Even though Rogers had been just out of training, his ATA gene had given him a place on the Daedalus' first flight to Pegasus to save Atlantis from the Wraith siege back in that first year here. Rogers hadn't left since and, like everyone in the city, he had proven himself over and over again. However, as John looked down at the guy, the difference in their years struck him. Rogers still seemed a kid to John, but he wasn't. He was the same age as Ford had been when he had stepped through the Gate that first time and into Atlantis. So much had changed since that first day in this city. So many had been lost.

John squashed down the emotional thoughts, which also threatened to remind him far too sharply of how old he was getting.

"Mind if I go see her? Her lunch is waiting," John asked as he headed away from Rogers towards the far door.

"Um, ah, yes, Sir," Rogers replied for John had already moved on past him.

John knew it was wrong of him to use his station and dismissive air to walk over any of Roger's authority to keep him in the isolation room. The guards were more of a formality now, as he and Teyla had behaved themselves for days, with only a minor cake-stealing incident to mention. Woolsey wanted guards here though and John could understand it from the man's point of view, but they were getting annoying at times, like now when he wanted to go see Teyla when in truth he didn't really have any excuse to leave the isolation room. McKenzie could call her out for her food, but John wanted to be the one to fetch her. Okay, so maybe he wasn't quite thinking like normal yet, but he wasn't going to be ordered around by young Rogers about just walking across the room.

McKenzie sat near the open doorway to the physio's room, and he lifted his head from the health magazine he had acquired from the isolation room. The big Scotsman didn't bat an eyelid as he nodded at John as he approached. They were the seasoned eyes of a man closer to John's age who knew when to bend the rules at times. McKenzie glanced to the door to the physio's room.

"She's been in there a while," he said with realisation.

"Yeah, her lunch is waiting," John replied as he approached.

"You mean you haven't eaten it already?" McKenzie teased.

John ignored the good-natured slight, and McKenzie's chuckle, as he moved past towards the open doorway.

The angle of the entrance meant that you couldn't see into the physio's room from outside, but as he entered, John could hear the distinctive familiar whirring sound of the treadmill and the light thuds of Teyla's steps. By the fast repetition of her footsteps, she was running flat out. As he moved further into the room, he could hear her rapid breathing, breathless and panting with her exertion.

000000

Running had become the only time in which she allowed herself to dwell on the memories.

Running, especially as fast as the treadmill would allow, was when she could once again glimpse the feeling of freedom she had so enjoyed under the influence of the retrovirus. The excited wildness of simply running and running, nothing had been an obstacle to her, her body had felt powerful and her energy seemingly unending. It had been intoxicating. Running on the spot in a small room was far from the same experience, but the act of running allowed out some of those former feelings and she allowed herself to dwell in those sensations.

With each day though, she could feel her former advanced agility fading. Though the exercise was re-toning her muscles, which had wasted from her enforced week of bed rest under the influence of sedatives, her stamina was increasing, but at the same time the agility and natural fluidity that the retrovirus had gifted her were fading. Soon the feeling of powerful freedom would go as well, for it was already weaker with each passing day.

In her mind, she allowed the walls of the room to fade from her awareness and she imagined she was once again running through the halls, empty rooms, and corridors of the pier. There was nothing to stop her, nothing to limit her, only the feel of the exhilaration at the power of her body.

She jabbed at the control panel to the treadmill, its mechanical whirring rising in pitch and speed to its highest pace. Her arms pumping at her sides, she poured all the power she had left into her legs. They were tired, but it was a good tiredness, one born of a good workout and the knowledge that she was becoming fully human again with the corresponding human weaknesses. Yet, she kept running, pushing herself not to tone anymore, but to maintain the thrilling feeling a little longer.

The room around her forgotten, she was retreading remembered hallways and doorways through which she had run before. There was no one to limit her now, no one chasing her or forcing her to find somewhere to hide, instead she was free to run and embrace how it made her feel.

Of course, before she had not been alone through most of her running, and she wondered how much of her excitement in her run before had been heightened by John's presence with her. She remembered that as he had been altered more and more by the retrovirus, that he had kept a better pace with her and that by the time they had found the humid environment of the water processing rooms, he had been almost as fast and powerful as she had been.

Her breathing was fast now, her body moving rapidly, and she could feel the chill of the air against the sweaty exposed skin of her arms and belly. The fabric of her cropped top and thin trousers felt tight against her body with the dampness of her skin, but it all only heightened the powerfulness she felt.

Other memories snuck free of her control when she was running. Whilst feeling so energised and free, the memories of John were unavoidable. Inevitably, the memories lingered on what they had shared under the water tank. She remembered all of it – his hands sliding over her skin, his mouth against her throat, and his body a solid arousing weight over her own. Oh, yes, it was in these times, and these only, that she allowed those memories some air. She still tried to put some control over which memories she lingered upon, trying to limit the most intimate thoughts, for it was not healthy for her to do so. It did no good to recall how it had felt to cradle his weight between her legs, or how strong he had felt under her as she had leant over him to set her mouth against his upper chest.

She broke her gaze away from the internal images and jabbed down at the treadmill's controls to slow everything down. The slower pace brought with it some regaining of control, and as she did she realised how fast her breathing had become and how deeply her legs were aching at the fast long workout. She drew in a deep breath to steady herself down and draw back her centre as she selected the cool down programme on the control panel.

She reached for her towel as the belt under her feet slowed down to a brisk walking pace. The towel was warm and dry against her skin as she pressed it against her face. She drew in the fresh clean smell of the fabric and focused on drawing in another slower deep breath to steady her rapid breathing. She wiped the towel over her face and neck.

Another presence in the room registered, and she looked sharply to her left, expecting that either Lieutenants McKenzie or Rogers had entered to call an end to her workout, but instead she found another set of eyes watching her.

John twitched slightly at her sudden attention, his eyes having lifted abruptly to meet hers, but his expression quickly turned into one of his warm smiles.

"John, I did not hear you enter," she greeted him, very aware that her breathing was so fast and consequently her voice sounded rather husky and breathless.

His abrupt unexpected presence so close to her amorous thoughts about him meant that she reacted differently than normal. Fearful that somehow that against all logic he might somehow know what she had been thinking about, she broke her eyes from him down to her towel as she wiped her arms. "Do you want to use the treadmill?" She asked as she glanced back to him only to register that he was still wearing his normal clothing; worn jeans and a black top. It was unlikely he was here to request use of the equipment.

"No, don't let me stop you," he replied with what seemed a playful tone to his voice that drew her gaze back to his.

She frowned at his meaning, wondering if she had interpreted his tone correctly, but he just smiled again, his eyes remaining on hers and not slipping down to what she was now acutely aware was a very tight and damp top she was wearing. The top felt as if it was clinging tightly to her chest as she breathed, and her skin felt damp and sensitive to the air. She rubbed her towel over her upper chest and neck again, hoping that she did not look as dishevelled as she felt.

He looked far from dishevelled. The black top he wore complimented his wide shoulders, and with the collar slightly open, she could see that the skin of his throat looked of a paler blue. She lifted her eyes to his as she wondered if she had been caught staring, and how long the silence had been lingering.

"Just thought you'd like to know your lunch is waiting for you," he said, his eyes bright in the overhead lights shining down on him. As she was on the treadmill, she was raised higher than he was, and it afforded her an uncustomary angle of his handsome face.

"Thank you," she replied as she dropped her eyes down to the control panel as the brisk pace slowed to a calmer speed. Normally after her run, she would have a shower before she properly spoke with anyone, but here John was, standing in the room as her breathing remained raised and her clothes felt irrationally thin over her body.

"And I didn't touch any of it," he added with his more normal teasing tone.

Relieved at the sudden break and distraction she looked back to him with a smile. "Very restrained of you."

He nodded in response. "There's extra dessert too; cake," he added.

She smiled again as she reached for her water bottle set into the cup holder beside the control panel. "Did they send it down or did you steal it?" She teased him.

He pulled an exaggerated affronted expression as he glanced away and then back to her. His eyes were especially bright today she noticed again, or perhaps it was that the lighting was different in this room compared to the isolation room.

"That wasn't stealing before," he argued. "It was re-acquisitioning. No one was gonna eat them."

She took a good swig of water and swallowed as she gave him a doubtful look.

"Hey, you ate them with me," he pointed out.

She had to admit the truth in that. It had been very amusing when John had hurried into their room that evening with the tray of re-acquisitioned cake slices. He had left to take a shower, but had returned almost immediately with his stolen goods. Over the last few days, Jennifer had suggested that they try to eat less and therefore their food portions had been reduced. John's 'heist' had been something of an amusing rebellion that she had enjoyed along with him.

"And today's cake?" She asked.

He held up his hands, which were his normal colour once more. "They sent up today's cake, I swear," he promised with a lovely smile. "I think Michaels is on our side."

The treadmill's pace slowed further under her feet signalling that the cool down would end soon. The prospect of food waiting, including an extra dessert, was very appealing and she would put off her wash until after she ate.

John moved slightly further into the room, his manner casual as he circled round towards the front of her treadmill so she did not have to look round to the left to where he had stood in the entrance.

"So, tomorrow's 'Torren Day'," he said as he wandered around into view.

She smiled at the subject, her heart lightening with excitement. "Yes," she replied with enthusiasm. "Though I am still concerned that my appearance may scare him," she admitted for though excited and happy, she still felt some trepidation as well.

"You look fine to me," John replied. The supportive compliment made her smile though the faintly flirtatious edge to it surprised her a little.

Despite the uncontrolled thoughts whilst running, her overt feelings from her dream several nights ago had died down somewhat. John had been the most wonderful companion during their shared imprisonment and though they teased and laughed with each other there seemed to have been an unspoken agreement to avoid anything that might, even in passing, relate to what they had shared under the water tank. John's comment, added to the sparkle in his eyes, surprised her. Perhaps it was that he had come to terms with what had happened now and felt free to tease in a flirtatious way.

She did not mind, for some flirtatiousness had been a part of their friendship from the start, though not over the last year. Yet, his reference to attraction, even in a light-heartened manner, once again called forth her aroused thoughts from her run. She wondered if it might be a good idea to ban him from entering the room whilst she was working out, but then thought that to be a little extreme. Especially as she found herself rather enjoying the flush of pleasure at his compliment, even when it was in jest and clearly designed to make her feel better about the situation with Torren.

That turned her thoughts back onto the subject. The treadmill slowed further so that she was walking at a very leisurely pace now.

"You and I see the differences in our recovery with each passing day, as do the others when they visit us, but Torren never saw me transformed. I fear that I will appear alien and unfamiliar to him," she admitted.

John had reached the wall opposite her and turned to face her. "You're his mom, Teyla," he replied confidently. "He'll just be happy to see you."

The belt of the treadmill slowed to a stop under her feet and for the first time in what felt a long time this morning, she stood entirely still.

"He is in his most formative years and it is likely he may already feel abandoned by me recently, and I fear if he then sees me so altered it may scar him emotionally." She admitted the fears and worries that had been circling her thoughts.

She knew that Torren was still very young, but she had to consider how something traumatising could affect a child. She had unfortunately seen many very young babes lose a parent to the Wraith over the years, and she had seen for herself the impact that loss had had on the children as they grew. Torren was young, but he was very sensitive and she had to wonder if he would somehow be able sense the Wraith-like DNA of the Iratus bug in her. An unfounded worry perhaps, but it made it no less stressful for her to consider.

She picked up her towel and water bottle and looked back towards John. He frowned lightly as if pondering something.

"Maybe you could borrow some makeup from someone?" He suggested, though his tone was rather doubtful about the suggestion. Though they were both returning to their normal selves gradually, her skin was still dramatically blue around her mouth, jaw and throat, and it seemed that the darker stripes she had developed, but John had not, seemed to the last to fade away. Where her own skin colour had returned on her arms and belly, she could still see the faint outlines of the stripes that were still fading. No amount of makeup would be able to hide her unusual face colour unless it was painted thickly on and she would not enjoy that.

"Or," John added. "How about lowering the lighting in the isolation room, your skin might not be as obvious."

It was a good suggestion and she nodded as she wiped over her face again with her towel.

"Then perhaps we could increase the lighting with time, so that he becomes accustomed to my altered appearance," she considered with some renewed hope.

"There you go," John replied with a smile.

Feeling that she had some more control on the impending situation now, she smiled again in return. "Thank you, John," she told him as she stepped down from the treadmill to the solid floor.

"Any time," John replied as he approached to join her on the way towards the exit. She paused though as he neared her.

"You do not have to leave the isolation room when Kanaan and Torren arrive tomorrow," she told him.

John had been absent from the room during Kanaan and Halling's visit and she suspected he planned to do the same tomorrow. It was for her and Kanaan's benefit, but she did not wish him to feel excluded from the room that what was his home for another week.

"I think Kanaan's gonna be more comfortable if I do, especially with Torren being there," John replied.

The implication of that thought surprised her and worried her. She reached out and touched her hand against John's arm as she turned towards him to hold his full attention.

"You would _never_ hurt Torren," she told him, knowing without a doubt that it was true. "Even at the height of the retrovirus I would have trusted you with him. You would have protected him, as you did me."

The words were honest, but she surprised herself with the last part. Until now she had not really assessed what had happened in that light, but it was no less true – John had been very protective of her during their transformation, and even during their recovery since.

She knew how important his friends were to him, how close their team was, and so had not thought about it before now. Now however, she felt the truth of that fact – the two of them had worked together, even in that state, as they had for years within their team. The aggression and animalistic behaviour had not altered their connection in that respect. She truly would have trusted Torren in his care, for she knew he would have protected Torren as he had her.

John broke eye contact away and she saw so clearly in his expression how much what she had said meant to him though he hid the reaction behind a rather embarrassed smile that quickly turned into a frown.

"I'm not sure Kanaan would agree with you, considering what happened before," he said.

The emotional discomfort was clear in his manner, in the way he couldn't quite keep eye contact for long and in his casual shrug. Such 'John' characteristics that they made her smile, for he was returning to his true self for sure. Affection welled up inside her for him and she realised that she still had her hand on his forearm. In typical John form, his sleeve was folded back to his elbow, his left elbow faintly blue still. His skin was warm and soft as human skin should be, unlike the scales of before. Life really was returning to normal, and though she had had faith that it would happen as Carson promised, to actually see and feel the changes eased some lingering concerns.

This really was her John again, and though in her mind he had not been all that far from that even during his change, to see him becoming himself again only added more warmth to the affection she felt. She squeezed his arm slightly.

"What happened before was…," she smiled up at him and he chuckled quietly as he nodded.

"Not my fault," he finished, repeating the constant explanation in their life of late. He lifted his eyes up to meet hers with a soft smile. "The retrovirus made me do it."

She grinned at him as she nodded. "Exactly," she replied as she squeezed his warm strong arm once more before she pulled her hand away.

She had always felt a strong connection with John from the start, but after sharing the retrovirus experience with him, including their unexpected intimate encounter, she felt a very close bond with him now. She smiled up at him, holding his eye contact for a beat longer than normal.

"If you wish to stay away while Torren is here, then I understand, but do not feel that you have to." She glanced to the treadmill to her right. "There is only so long one can run."

A second meaning to her words occurred to her as she said them. She had been running from her feelings for this man for a long time. The retrovirus had at least finally allowed her to express those feelings, even for a short time.

She looked back round to John to see him watching her.

"True," he replied. There was a soft quality to his eyes as he smiled at her and it warmed her.

John was a very handsome man and his direct gaze had a very strong affect. She imagined that when those eyes and personality were turned on a woman with full force that no woman would be able to resist him. She glanced away, a smile tickling her lips at the delight his attention gave her. She looked back to him and he smiled again. His eyes most definitely sparkled under the room's lights.

He was the one to look away this time, after what could only have been a moment. "It's not the same, is it?"

She felt a frisson of a thrill at his words as for a split second she thought he might be referring to this new strengthened connection between them. It was not John's nature to discuss things personal or emotional unless pressed, so she immediately pulled back her immediate rather telling interpretation of his words. She looked away towards the treadmill as he was as she struggled with the revelation that her emotions were rather too reactive still.

"Running," John clarified, filling in all she needed to understand what he had really meant.

She looked back round to him with sharp interest. Did he too feel as she did when running? Did he feel the rush of power? Did he miss the thrill and the freedom running had produced under the full influence of the retrovirus? Did his thoughts and feelings flow out of his control too when he ran?

He looked away from the treadmill to meet her eyes.

"Not as much fun," he added and his eyes told her almost as much as his words had done. The rush of affection and connection she had felt so strongly for him only a few moments ago returned.

He understood.

There were some more embarrassing elements to that admission that they shared the same experience whilst running. Did he too reflect back to their time under the water tank while he ran? Did he relive the passion as she did? But, that was only one aspect of the freedom and power that running gave her and overall she felt better that she knew he experienced the same. She still regretted that she had infected with John with the retrovirus, but she felt fortunate that she had shared this experience with John over anyone else.

"No, it is not," she confessed to him.

She could see in his expression his own relief and pleasure that he was not alone in what he experienced when running. Though a part of her felt a little anxious that she had perhaps given away more of what she truly felt. In admitting to their shared experience, she felt that she was also confessing to him that she dwelled on their intimate encounter as well. She was not sure if John knew that, but it felt surprisingly good to admit it, even to herself. One could not run forever from what one truly felt.

"Come on, your lunch is getting cold," John said abruptly, breaking the strange atmosphere that felt both exposing yet also deeply comfortable with him.

"Yes, of course," she replied as they turned towards the exit together. "I hope though, that no one has stolen my cake while I have been away."

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TBC


	20. Reunion

**Note: **Wow, so it's been a couple of months since I posted the last chapter. It's been a difficult and tough couple of months, but your emails, reviews, and nudges asking me to keep going on this fic have helped me get back to this point. I've waited until now to start posting the new chapters, to give me time to get the entire thing completed. I hope to get these last chapters posted as soon as possible, a must before Christmas. Thank you everyone for your patience and kind words, and as a thank you here are 2 new chapters in one go. I hope you all enjoy where this fic is headed (like you can't guess!).

Infection

Chapter Twenty - Reunion

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Kanaan felt some trepidation as he walked towards the waiting open Stargate. He had no doubt that Atlantis and the isolation room were safe for Torren, but he still felt some concern. On his last visit, along with Halling, Kanaan had been able to see the clear changes to Teyla. Her appearance and her manner had been far more like her true self, in control and at peace once more. Until reappearance of those qualities, he had not realised how strongly she imbued such a strong sense of control and inner stillness. In the past, even in her most distressed state, which was very rare, she always seemed in control as if there was a deep well of confident stillness inside her. That stillness had been lost since her illness had begun, but on his last trip, Kanaan had been able to see its return.

Though it thrilled him to see her return to her former self, to know that things would return to normal, he still knew that they never truly would. Their relationship had ended, despite a part of him secretly hoping that perhaps at the return of her normal self that she might regret their separation. However, during his last visit it had been clear to him that their decision had been permanent, as he had agreed, but it still hurt him a little bit to know that she truly no longer wanted him.

Taking Torren to her for the first time in weeks was an important event, but it felt somewhat tainted for him, for it was not to be the family reunion that he had previously envisioned. Now he was excluded somewhat from Teyla's relationship with their son.

He had enjoyed being Torren's sole carer these past weeks, but it had tired him considerably. The late nights through which Torren still would not settle properly took their toil on Kanaan during his working days. Those in the camp understood, but he felt that he was not pulling his weight to complete the harvest with everyone else. With the new changes between him and Teyla, Kanaan was keen now to progress onto the life they would have beyond this point to a time in which he would know precisely where he stood in regards to caring for Torren. He and Teyla could share Torren's care, and Kanaan would be free to live in the camp with his people once more.

He looked forward to sharing so much more of the traditional Athosian lifestyle with Torren now that Kanaan would be living in the camp again, unlike the life he had been living almost solely in Atlantis. And of course, today's reunion between mother and son would hopefully bring an end to Torren's lingering sadness. Kanaan longed for that. He just prayed to the Ancestors that all would go well in the approaching reunion. A reunion that was almost upon them, for Kanaan stepped forward and through the watery wall of the Gate and into Atlantis.

Torren turned in his seat within Kanaan's arm, his little face transformed to delight at recognising the high ceiling ancient room again. He let out a little excited sound, his eyes wide and happy.

Across the space, Mr Woolsey stepped forward, to stand closer than usual as he smiled at Torren.

"Welcome again, and hello there, Torren" Mr Woolsey greeted. Torren grinned widely and pointed at Mr Woolsey.

"Thank you, Mr Woolsey," Kanaan replied.

"It is good to have you both back in the city." Mr Woolsey leant closer to Torren, shaking the boy's outstretched hand. "It's been very quiet without you around." Torren yelped with excitement, which grew louder as Ronon stepped forward into view.

"Greetings, Ronon," Kanaan greeted the tall former Runner.

"Kanaan," Ronon replied with as much of a smile as he usually gave, before his attention shifted, with a proper full smile, to Torren. "Little Warrior." Torren yelped with joy again as he pointed up to Ronon excitedly. It pleased Kanaan to see his son so loved by these people and that the feeling was clearly very mutual.

"I'll head down to the Infirmary with you," Ronon offered.

"Thank you," Kanaan replied as he nodded to Mr Woolsey as he stepped away, and with Ronon, he headed away past the smiling soldiers along the well-trod path to the Infirmary. "How is Teyla?"

Ronon was grinning down at Torren who was reaching up to grasp Ronon's hair swinging around his shoulders. "She's good," Ronon replied simply, which had been his standard reply on the subject these past weeks. "Beckett's back on duty, says they're doing good."

"That is good to hear."

Torren lost interest in Ronon's hair as more people passed by. Everyone recognised Torren and he was sent various smiles, waves, and silly faces that made him giggle and point. He had just found the power of pointing to things to get attention. Kanaan had worried that Torren would fret on this visit, but it seemed that his son was taking great delight in being back in the city. That fact was rather telling for Kanaan. He had not realised how ingrained in his son's life this place had truly become, and how literally everyone who passed them knew Torren. For the first time, Kanaan realised how Teyla felt about being a part of an extended family working in this city. It had been a family that Kanaan had been unable to find a place, but clearly Torren had pride of place within it.

They left the staircase at the level of the Infirmary and as they walked down the corridor towards the open busy entrance, Kanaan felt his trepidation increasing slightly. Torren's tight grip on Kanaan's jacket increased as if he sensed his father's nervousness. Kanaan worked to calm himself and bounced Torren in his arm.

"Look who it is, Torren," Kanaan said to Torren as in the doorway ahead Doctor McKay stepped into view. The man's anxious expression transformed as he saw them approaching. Torren yelped with recognition and pointed with delight.

"Hey, Torren," Doctor McKay said in a slightly strained tone. The man was still rather uncomfortable in talking with Torren it seemed, but his smile made it clear that he was very happy to see Torren again. He caught Torren's waving outstretched hand.

Doctor Keller appeared from the Infirmary as well. "Hello, Kanaan," she greeted him before she too reached out to Torren. "Torren," she said in an excited tone as she tickled one of the boy's smiling cheeks. Torren giggled as he looked up at Kanaan and pointed to the Doctors before him.

Kanaan smiled at his son's joy, which had been absent for so many days. As Kanaan stepped properly into the doorway, he looked past the cooing Doctors' shoulders to see Dr Beckett appear across the length of the room. The man smiled as he saw Kanaan and Torren, and some more of Kanaan's tensions eased to see it. Things appeared calm and relaxed here today.

After a few more minutes for Torren to enjoy all the attention, Kanaan moved on alone across the Infirmary towards Dr Beckett, with Torren twisting and turned in his arms to look at everything. Kanaan wondered if he was looking for his mother.

Dr Beckett walked a few paces forward to meet them outside the curtained off area. The man's happy smile drew Torren's attention.

"Hallo, my wee man," Dr Beckett greeted Torren as he had always done and Torren grinned in response.

"It is good to see that you are feeling better, Dr Beckett," Kanaan greeted him.

"Aye, thank you," he replied.

"Is everything well?" Kanaan asked glancing towards the closed curtains, the moment almost upon them and he was anxious now to move forward, to reunite son and mother.

"Aye. Colonel Sheppard is in another room for his workout, so it'll just be the three of you."

Kanaan felt thankful for that. Colonel Sheppard had been absent the last time Kanaan had visited. Following their confrontation before, Kanaan had felt greatly conflicted about what had happened. At first he had been fearful and then angry, but as time had passed, and his faint bruises had faded, he had curbed himself about his own behaviour. That he had reacted so aggressively towards anyone was unlike him, but especially so towards a man who Kanaan had been warned was not himself. Kanaan had seen for himself Teyla's swinging moods previously and he had simply forgotten the danger when he had rushed towards Colonel Sheppard. He knew that some words of apology were in order, but he still felt the anger simmering at times that the words would not arrive yet. That he had not seen the Colonel since then had helped in that regard.

"Teyla is a little anxious that Torren will be scared by the altered appearance of her skin, so we've dimmed the lights in the isolation room so that her changes won't be as obvious to little Torren."

Kanaan nodded along with the idea. He had noticed Teyla's unease on that subject the other day, and the dimmed lighting might indeed solve some of the problem.

"A wise suggestion," Kanaan replied.

"It was Colonel Sheppard's idea actually," the doctor replied.

"They are both well?" Kanaan felt compelled to ask though part of him begrudged having to be considerate to the other man after what had happened between him and Teyla.

"Yes, they're both doing wonderfully. They're both much more comfortable and at ease."

"That is good to hear," Kanaan replied keeping his tone polite. He turned his attention to Torren who was smiling at one of the guards who was making faces at him. "Shall we go visit your mother, Torren?" Kanaan asked his son.

Dr Beckett pushed open the curtain sections and Kanaan moved through it with thanks, Torren leaning against his shoulder, looking back at the Doctor as he closed up the curtains again. Kanaan kept his attention forward as he stepped into the isolation room.

The lighting was indeed far lower than normal, but with the two Athosian candles flickering away on the small table beside the bed, it could almost have been that they were back in their quarters. However, those were no longer his shared quarters – they were Teyla's alone.

Teyla was sat at the central table, absently shuffling some cards, but she stood immediately as he entered, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"Hello, Teyla," he greeted her.

"Hello, Kanaan," she replied as she approached around the end of her bed.

Torren's head snapped round at the sound of her voice.

"Here is your mother, Torren," Kanaan said down to him, using a purposefully bright and cheerful tone of voice.

Teyla paused a few feet away and leaned forward. "Hello, Torren."

Torren frowned at her for only a moment, possibly confused at first by the dim lighting, but it lasted only a second or two. Torren cried out in demand, both his arms stretched out towards Teyla and had Kanaan not expected the sudden shift in Torren's weight, Torren would have thrown himself out of Kanaan's arms towards his mother.

Teyla rushed the few feet towards the outstretched request to be held and slid her hands around Torren lifting him from Kanaan's arms. Her smile was wide and beautiful, and her eyes clearly shining with tears.

"Hello, my Torren," she said, her delighted voice wavering with tears. She held Torren tight against her and he wrapped his arms around her neck, his small head tucked into her throat, his face pressed against her. Kanaan saw Teyla's tears dripping down her cheeks as she turned away. She pressed her cheek down onto the top of Torren's head and she bounced him in comfort, though perhaps that comfort was for herself as much as for Torren.

She paced away slightly, her words of love and apology to Torren repeated over and over again. Kanaan turned away to give them some small amount of space together and he moved over to the chair set beside her bed. Folded up on the bed was Torren's new coat and Kanaan reached for it, opening it out to look at the winter coat Teyla had completed. He distracted himself with refolding it up as Teyla paced back in his direction, though the bed was between them.

"His new coat looks the perfect size," Kanaan complimented her as he set the coat back down.

Teyla smiled, her tears no longer running free as she lifted her cheek from Torren and looked down at her son. Torren seemed reluctant to pull away from the warmth of his mother's neck, so she just continued bouncing him and stroking his hair.

"He has grown," she commented, the candlelight shining off her delighted smile. "And his hair."

Kanaan glanced at Torren's dark brown hair, so similar to his own. How like a mother to notice something like that, for only now did Kanaan see that the ends of Torren's hair reached down the back of his neck.

"I suppose he is due to have it cut. I had not thought of it," he admitted, knowing it was a small thing and it pleased him to see Teyla so perfectly back into the role of mother.

Despite the dim light, it was clear that there was a dramatic change to her face just since two days ago when he had last seen her. Her skin looked softer too, though there was still the clear outline of the stripes that could be seen on the outside of her cheeks and neck. He dropped his attention down to her hands holding Torren and was pleased to see that they looked entirely normal.

"We shall ask Mera if she will cut your hair for you," Teyla said down to Torren, which drew his attention enough for him to sit back slightly in her embrace and look up at her. Kanaan tensed slightly, knowing that even so young, Torren could not miss the changes to Teyla's appearance, especially when sat so close to her.

One of Torren's little hands reached up to her chin, patting against her skin with the slightly wavering motor control of young children his age. Kanaan could see the curious frown to Torren's face as he touched her chin again, examining her face. Teyla smiled down at Torren, as she continued to stroke her hand around his back.

Torren giggled abruptly as he patted her cheek where one of the stripes could be seen even in the low light. Kanaan's relief at Torren's reaction lifted his heart and he chuckled along with the next giggle. Teyla too was smiling brightly down at her son, then laughed with him, her relief clear.

Kanaan was happy for her. Not only had she survived through all this, but finally she was with her son again. Feeling like a weight had been lifted somewhat from his shoulders, Kanaan sat back in his chair and watched Teyla and Torren together again.

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John had stretched out his workout as long as possible, but had eventually reached the point of extreme tiredness, and the need for a shower had him swiftly heading out of the physio's room, past the curtains and through Carson's lab to get to the bathroom.

There, he had enjoyed a nice long shower that had eased away all the lingering tensions and aches from his long workout. He had added press-ups, sit-ups and pull-ups to his running as part of his daily workout, and he had pushed himself further today to give Teyla, Torren, and Kanaan their time alone.

Now, he was clean, dressed, and had run out of distractions to stay away from the isolation room. He took one last go at styling his wet hair into a tame shape, and then headed for the door.

Unfortunately, Carson wasn't in his lab, so there was no distraction to be found there. John moved through the lab to the doorway and contemplated the curtained corridor down to the entrance of the isolation room. He strained his hearing, his boring entirely normal human hearing, but couldn't hear anything over the relatively busy Infirmary on the other side of the wall of curtain screens, where he suspected Carson was helping out.

John wondered if Kanaan was even still here. He and Torren might have left while John was in the shower. If he'd had his superhuman hearing he would know. He glanced back into the lab for something to entertain him, but there was nothing but medical stuff and Carson's cold coffee. John looked back to the isolation room's entrance and made his decision – he would peer in and see if the visit was over, and if it wasn't he could at least fetch his laptop or a book to bring back to the lab.

He headed down the short corridor to the open doorway, listening for the first clues as to whether Kanaan was gone or how things were going. He hadn't heard any baby crying earlier, but then he wouldn't have heard it from the physio's room.

As he neared the doorway he could see immediately that the lights were at their usual level again, so either Kanaan and Torren had gone already, or things had gone really good. He peered cautiously, but casually, around the doorframe to see immediately that things were going well.

Teyla was sat on her bed, the bars on one side of the bed raised to create a pen around her and where Torren sat on the mattress leaning back against her crossed legs. The room's lights were on full and everyone was smiling, including Torren it seemed.

Teyla noticed him and she looked up with a bright beaming smile that eased any worries in John's chest. "Hello, John."

Kanaan looked round as well, from where he sat beside the bed, his polite smile rather strained.

"Hey," John replied as he edged into the doorway. "I just thought I'd grab a book or something." He gestured towards the main table with its cluttered shelf full of entertainment.

On the bed before Teyla, Torren looked round towards John. Drawn towards the kid, John stretched forward so he could see Torren better and the little boy grinned and pointed towards him. Feeling ridiculously pleased at having been recognised, John stepped forward another couple of paces.

"Hey, Torren," he smiled down at Torren who giggled and looked back at Teyla and pointed again at John. "He seems happy enough."

Teyla smiled as she reached out and stroked her hand over Torren's hair. "He seems to find my new appearance amusing," she reported, which was not what John had expected.

"Oh, really?" John asked as he moved closer, aware that Kanaan might be nervous about him getting too close. "You making fun of your Mom, Torren?" He asked the boy softly.

Torren grinned again, before lifting up a soft toy for John to see. John made some appreciative noises at the drool-covered giraffe, which made Torren smile before he lost interest in John and returned his attention to the toys spread about him. John smiled down at the boy who he hadn't seen for weeks. It was strange how much a part of his life Torren had become.

"He's grown," John noted.

Teyla stroked Torren's hair again. "Yes," she replied proudly. "Kanaan says he is almost crawling as well."

"Uh-oh," John replied with a smile. He glanced at Kanaan, who glanced back at him. A faint awkward tension hung in that moment. "Umm, Kanaan, about what happened the other…" John began.

"It was partly my fault," Kanaan interrupted politely.

John had to agree with that, but he was still surprised by the admission. Shame he couldn't blame it all on Kanaan though.

"Well, I'm really sorry," John made himself say. He meant it, but he felt awkward and uncomfortable. Considering what had happened between John and Teyla and because if things worked out the way John wanted with her in the future, Kanaan might well be hating John for real pretty soon.

"I apologise as well," Kanaan replied, his expression polite enough.

John noticed Teyla smiling as she looked away down to Torren.

John hadn't been looking forward to this apology, but there is was over and done with, just like that. John almost felt annoyed that it had been so easy, which was stupid really.

"So, I'll ah, just get some things and leave you guys alone again," he said as he turned towards the rest of the room, but took the time to smile down at Torren again.

"This is currently your home as well," Kanaan said. "You do not have to leave it as I am here."

The offer seemed honest from Kanaan, and Teyla had said the same yesterday, so John decided it was probably okay to stay in here now. Feeling like he had gained something important, he nodded his thanks and headed away towards his end of the room.

"I'll make sure I keep it down," he joked back towards Teyla and she smiled before she looked back down to Torren.

John passed by the central table and contemplated how to spend his time whilst Kanaan and Torren were visiting. He looked through the entertainment possibilities on the shelf and hesitated in his choice, wondering if he should listen to some music or a movie on headphones, so to give them some privacy still. Teyla and Kanaan were talking again in quiet voices, but not at a level that John couldn't hear. They didn't seem to mind, but then, the state of irrigation channels in the Athosian fields wasn't all that worth listening in on really. He pulled his laptop out from the table's shelf and headed towards his bed. There, he climbed up onto the bed, the head of it tilted up high so that he could lean back comfortably. He switched on the laptop, balancing it against his raised knees, entered his password and leant back to wait as it booted up properly.

He glanced across the room again. Torren was making little repetitive noises as if he was playing with the sounds. The kid had grown more than John had expected, and seeing the little boy so well and happy made John feel a genuine warmth in his chest. Torren had been such a part of all their lives since the day he had been born, that John hadn't realised how much he had missed little Torren himself. He was used to seeing the boy everyday, at breakfast or dinner, or sometimes Teyla brought him to one of the team evenings. Despite John's true feelings about Kanaan, John enjoyed Torren's presence in the city.

Teyla's hand dropped into view, her hand gracefully stroking over Torren's hair again. The touch was soft and full of love. John looked up from Torren to Teyla and saw the softness to her eyes, filled with emotion. John was so happy that things had gone so well for her today, that she was finally reunited with her son. Looking at her now, John could see the faint tension that had lingered in her for days, had finally eased away. Everything really was heading back to normal again. Each day they were looking more like their usual selves, the original Wraith infection that had caused all this was still completely absent from Teyla's system, and now Torren was back in her life. Carson had predicted three weeks of treatment for the retrovirus, and now that two of those weeks were over, it meant that in five days or so, they would be out of here and life would return to normal.

That future day of freedom from the isolation room was a target for him and Teyla to reach, both eager to be clear of the retrovirus and able to finally escape their imprisonment. Yet, that day also felt something like a deadline for him now as well. He had until then to enjoy Teyla's company so exclusively, after which they would be back on the team together and life would be 'back to normal'. Which meant that he kind of had a window of opportunity here, and though he had a plan, he also didn't want to risk anything too soon. He had missed his chance years before, but not this time.

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TBC


	21. Team

**Note: **Here's the second one for the day, hope you enjoy the lighter chapter. This chapter is dedicated to Camy, who has not been feeling well, but kept on running the Beya Elf challenge. I missed her birthday as well, so this chapter is her present. Hope you like it Hun.

Infection

Chapter Twenty One - Team

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Teyla dipped her chin and grazed it against the top of Torren's head, his soft hair tickling her skin and his baby scent lingering around her. She felt as if she had been smiling constantly since his first visit two days ago. Since then Kanaan had brought Torren to stay with her throughout the day yesterday and today, allowing her to thoroughly enjoy her son's presence and not just in passing as a visitor into her confinement. When Kanaan had left their son with her, he had shown no sign of concern in leaving Torren in her care. Of course, there was no risk for Torren here, but Teyla felt grateful that now others could see that as well.

The changes to her appearance, and John's, had seemed more pronounced these past days for finally they were looking themselves. As she glanced at John sat to her right she saw hardly any blue colouring to his skin, only a touch, more of a tinge to his complexion, around his chin and down his neck. Her own skin was almost back to her own colour, though unlike John, the darker stripes across her throat, cheeks and arms had still to completely fade. The stripes had almost gone, but with the rest of the former background blue gone, the stripes seemed to stand out more against her normal skin tone. Only her right upper arm, where she had been initially injected with the retrovirus, still had thick dark blue skin, but in two days' time Carson expected everything but the small actual injection site to have returned to normal.

Everything was returning to normal and Torren's presence was the greatest demonstration of that for her. She dipped her chin further and brushed her lips against the top of Torren's head where he sat on her lap. He was a warm heavy weight leaning back against her, his arms waving before him as he reached up towards her hand of cards. She lifted her eyes from him to the spread of playing cards in her hand. Torren made another swipe towards the closest card, the Queen of Spades, and she lowered the cards so he could touch them again.

"Which card shall I play, Torren?" She asked her son with enjoyment.

"You're asking him?" Rodney asked from the left side of the table, his own cards held closely to his chest.

"He's playing better than you are," John teased Rodney from Teyla's right. Teyla was thoroughly enjoying the team card game. Every day they gathered to play a game and/or watch a movie if Rodney and Ronon were not needed on duty.

"I'm doing fine," Rodney protested, unconsciously holding his cards closer to his front.

"Not according to this," John replied as he made a show of studying the scoring sheet on the table next to him. Torren giggled at the teasing tones around the table.

"You're just all ganging up on me, that's all," Rodney muttered as he peered down at his closely held cards.

"Yes, Rodney, that's what we did. Before we started, the three of us got together and decided to make this game all about beating you," John teased back.

Rodney narrowed his eyes at John before he looked back at Teyla. "Are you going to play a card?" He asked.

Teyla controlled her smile as she returned her attention to her cards, one of which was almost in Torren's mouth. She pulled them a little further away from his grasp as she contemplated which card to play. She selected the five of hearts and leant forward slightly, pressing her and Torren closer, as she dropped the card alongside the two others already played by Ronon and John. Rodney groaned at the sight of her chosen card.

"Great, another heart. Just what I need," he muttered as he reluctantly dropped the Jack of Spades onto the table and then reached to gather up all four cards. He added them to his small collected pile of cards as John added a point to Rodney's score.

"Make sure you add it up properly," Rodney told John. "After all, you never actually made it into Mensa."

Teyla glanced at John with amusement. The teasing had been on full force these past days, making it abundantly clear to her how much both John and Rodney had missed each other's company. Their friendship, though an unpredicted one, was one they both enjoyed, despite the outer appearance of bickering.

"Like we'd trust you to keep score," John argued as he pulled a face at Rodney.

Affronted, Rodney opened his mouth in a silent gasp. "I would never cheat," he protested.

"You tried yesterday," Ronon said where he sat across the table from Teyla, his elbows resting on the metal table.

"I did not," Rodney protested. "It was Lieutenant McKenzie who was trying to cheat. I was crossing out his mistakes in the scores."

"Yeah, sure," John replied doubtfully.

"I was," Rodney continued.

"Play a card," Ronon instructed impatiently.

Rodney frowned down at his cards and dropped a four of diamonds onto the table. "I wouldn't cheat," he protested again.

Ronon added a two of spades. Teyla glanced at John, who pursed his lips at his hand before he rather reluctantly threw the seven of diamonds down on the table. Teyla looked at her own hand again. She dipped her chin to Torren's head again as she studied her cards. John was not going to like her next move. She had no diamonds left so she was free to play the dreaded Queen of Spades. She pulled it free and tossed it down over his seven.

John groaned at that and gave her a glare as he reached forward for the cards he had been forced to take. She smiled at him, pleased that she had been able to give away the Queen of Spades. Rodney chuckled with glee.

"That's 13 points for you, make sure you add it properly to your score," Rodney instructed John.

"I will make sure that he does," Teyla said as she leant to where the scoring sheet lay on the corner of the table between her and John and she waited pointedly as he set his gained cards to the pile in front of him and picked up the pen to add his points to his score. He pulled the sheet further towards him, away from her. She smiled at the move, but remained leant forward to watch him add the 13 to his score correctly.

"See, I play fair," John told her as he pushed the sheet back into the corner. "Unlike some," he added quieter.

"You and Rodney lost fairly in Pictionary, do not pretend otherwise," she told him as she sat back in her seat, Torren's hands grasping her remaining cards again.

"He can't even draw basic things," John muttered as he frowned down at his remaining cards.

"It was a perfectly acceptable drawing of a factory," Rodney objected.

"It was a floor schematic, Rodney," John argued as he pulled out an eight of diamonds and threw it into the middle of the table. "For a factory, you draw a big building with a large stack and loads of smoke coming out of it, that's how you draw a factory," John argued back. "Not a blueprint."

"It was a valid factory floor plan and it made sense to everyone else," Rodney argued.

Teyla grinned down at her cards, which she had to extract from Torren's mouth again. She pulled a rather damp five of spades out of the hand and added it to John's card in the middle of the table. Torren grumbled at the reducing number of cards to play with, so she began pressing kisses to the top of his head to distract him as she rocked them both from side to side. Torren lifted his head backwards against her, one hand reaching up to grasp her hair as he made happy little sounds.

Rodney grumbled as he added his card to the mix and Teyla looked back to the table to see Ronon drop a two of clubs on Rodney's king of Diamonds. She kept rocking herself from side to side, her arms around Torren, and he wriggled in her lap, turning his head to snuggle into her, one hand still holding a lock of her hair. As Rodney collected up his cards, she adjusted Torren in her lap so that he sat on his side, snuggled into her. Over the eight hours he had been with her today, he had been cuddled and entertained by everyone, including all the staff of the Infirmary when she had taken him into Carson's lab for some variety. Most of the staff had all found a reason to come in and visit Torren, and with the usual ten or so visitors to the isolation room, he had been well and truly worn out with the excitement and variety. He had gone without a nap this afternoon, so he was growing very sleepy now, which was good as Kanaan would arrive soon to take him back to the Athosian camp for his bedtime.

With Torren settled against her, she rubbed one hand against his little back, and leant forward to watch the new round in play. Rodney had started with a nine of clubs and she watched as Ronon paused before he put down a six of hearts. She glanced down at her remaining cards worriedly and then over at John. After a moment, he put down a ten of hearts and looked over at her. She didn't hide her frown as she reluctantly pulled out her only club left, the king of clubs. She dropped in onto the table.

"Finally, Stripy gets some points," John said victoriously as he reached for the score sheet with a smile.

He had taken to the nickname since yesterday when Rodney had, in his usual endearingly fumbling way, pointed out that she still had some stripes across her skin. John had latched onto the nickname from then onwards, with clear relish on his part. She did not mind it, knowing it was a sign of affection, in fact his attention on her fading stripes seemed oddly…thrilling. She suspected it was some retrovirus-inspired reaction that still lingered.

"I believe I am still in the lead," she pointed out.

John smiled in response, his eyes dropping to Torren against her, who had one hand stretched up towards her hair, his fingers gently combing through the ends of her hair. She looked down at Torren's small sleepy face. One thumb was in his mouth, comforting him as he struggled to fight falling asleep. She dropped her free hand onto his warm head and stroked over his hair once again. The dark eyes disappeared behind heavy eyelids for a moment, before they snapped open again.

"He's fighting it," John said quietly with amusement.

Teyla stroked over Torren's hair again, soothing him with her touch. "Perhaps today he will fall asleep before Kanaan collects him."

"It's probably why he's fighting it," John replied. She looked up at him. "So he can stay with his Mom as long as possible." John's voice was soft and gentle, his smile warm and understanding as he met her eyes again.

She took his words as a wonderful compliment, and to see his care for her son always warmed her. Torren was loved here in the Atlantis, and though the rest of her team had struggled at first with how to deal with Torren, all of them now loved him dearly. It was perhaps the only thing they all agreed on she thought with a smile as she stroked her hand over Torren's hair, feeling his weight settle further against her. She tilted her head further to the side to look at his face more clearly to see that he had finally succumbed to sleep. She smiled down at her beautiful boy.

"As cute as he is, can we keep the game going?" Rodney asked, but Teyla took no offence. His comments about the game were a form of teasing, and she had seen his soft smile directed down towards the sleeping Torren.

"Of course, after all it is clear that I am going to win," she replied as she looked back at her cards. The men made doubtful protesting noises at her declaration, but she had no doubt she would win now – there were only three more cards to be played and all of them in her hand were of very low values.

"Fighting words, Stripy," John uttered.

She studiously ignored the ribbing, knowing John would be watching her expression. She made a show out of choosing which card to start the next round.

Next to her, Rodney jerked slightly in his seat, drawing all their attention to him and she looked up to see his eyes were turned away as he jabbed up at the radio link at his ear.

"What is it Radek?" Rodney demanded into his radio.

It struck her, not for the first time, at how out of contact she was in the isolation room. Even if this call was not for her, she would still have heard it over the radio link she normally wore at her ear. Wearing the small device could at times be distracting and a niggling presence, but it kept you always informed of what was occurring in the city, and always contactable. Not being able to hear the other end of the conversation that Rodney had begun with Radek was faintly frustrating. She watched Rodney's face for hints as to whether he was hearing worrying news.

"Have you checked the distribution?" Rodney asked, his mouth open as if he had been planning to say more, but had been interrupted. "Well, how would I know?" He asked testily into the air, all three of them watching him. He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Yes, I know that, Radek. Yes, of course…well obviously you're saying that you don't know what you're doing or you wouldn't need me."

Teyla was reassured by the laid back and combativeness of Rodney's conversation to be reasonably sure that something bad was not occurring in the city.

"Do I look like a solar observatory?" Rodney asked sarcastically.

Teyla frowned with amusement at that comment, exchanging a look with Ronon across the table and then at John beside her. John pulled an expression as if there was indeed a possibility that Rodney could look like an observatory. She smiled as she looked back at Rodney.

"I'm on my way," Rodney finally concluded, tapping the link at his ear as he set his cards down and rose from his seat. "Zelenka needs my genius," he informed them.

"What's going on?" John asked with more seriousness in his voice.

"Nothing major," Rodney replied as he stepped around his empty seat. "Just a few glitches thanks to that solar flare yesterday." He pointed at his turned down cards on the table. "I still could have caught up, you know," he argued towards Teyla. She smiled and nodded, pretending to agree for his benefit.

"What solar flare?" John asked, clearly also not liking that he was out of the loop.

Rodney had already turned away and was heading through the isolation room towards the door. "Just your ordinary solar radiation, happens all the time. Well, not _all_ the time…" The rest of the lecture was lost as he disappeared out the door.

Teyla set her remaining three cards on the table and wrapped both her arms around Torren comfortably, who was still fast sleep, despite Rodney's argument over the radio. She suspected that Torren was used to it by now.

"We could split his cards between us," Ronon suggested.

"Nah, I've had enough of this game," John replied as he set his cards down on the table as well. He was frowning towards the exit and Teyla knew that he was dwelling on his isolation in here away from the activity of the city.

"You are saying that because you are expecting to lose," Teyla pointed out to him to distract him as much as to tease.

His eyes slid from the exit to her, the frown disappearing behind the more usual pretend glare. "We'll never know now."

She considered that and then reached out across the small table to his turned down cards.

"Hey!" He protested, reaching to catch her arms and block her from picking them up. Blocked, she tried to slip a hand around his to reach them, but she was limited in how much she could move with Torren against her. John's warm hands gripped her wrists playfully, holding her back. However, Ronon reached in and grabbed at John's cards whilst she distracted him.

"Hey! That's not fair, the game's over," John protested as he glared round at Ronon, who shared a victorious smile with Teyla as he turned John's cards over on the table. All higher than hers.

"You would not have won with those cards," Teyla told him as he released her wrists.

"It's not what you've been given, it's how you use it," he stated, a twinkle in his eyes as he did, the innuendo plain.

Ronon grunted a chuckle as he dropped his cards on the table as well. "Whatever helps you sleep at night," he teased.

John glared round at him. "I don't need to worry about anything like that, thank you."

"Keep telling yourself that," Ronon replied with a teasing doubtful tone.

Teyla controlled her smile as she saw the faint flush of pink to John's cheeks as he kept his glare focused on Ronon.

"Did it turn blue as well?" Ronon asked, his grin wide.

Teyla barely hide her burst of shocked laughter at the comment, covering her mouth quickly and turning it into a cough.

"Ronon!" John's cheeks most definitely went red this time.

Teyla suspected that this male humour and teasing was very common between her teammates out of her company, but it was unusual for them to speak like this in front of her. She had no issue at hearing such humour and found it immensely amusing now to watch John purposefully not looking in her direction as he glared with more viciousness at Ronon.

Ronon's very amused gaze slid from John to her, but instead of the 'let's team-up against him' look she had expected, there was instead another expression. One that seemed to say that she might know the answer to the question herself. She froze at what she thought she saw in Ronon's eyes and amused smile.

"Hello?" Kanaan's voice broke through the strange moment and Teyla looked round to where Kanaan was entering through the isolation room's doorway. He had come to pick up Torren and fortunately would have been too far away to have heard the conversation. His presence was a good distraction though.

"Kanaan, it is time already?" She asked conversationally as she turned her attention back down to Torren fast asleep against her.

"Yes, it is. He has been well?" Kanaan asked as he approached the table, his manner far more relaxed when visiting now, though she had not missed that he and John barely looked at each other. They were polite, but the tension remained.

"He has had a very busy day," Teyla informed him as she angled her head down to see Torren's face. As she moved to lift him, he grumbled, his eyes opening a crack. He was a warm heavy sleepy weight as she lifted him, turning him against her shoulder. His thumb popped out of his mouth as he grumbled more loudly.

"Look Torren, your father is here," Teyla said to him. Torren turned his head as she stood up with him and Kanaan smiled at his son, which kerbed any potential tears for a few moments.

There would be more to come, for Torren had been very upset at the end of the last couple of days when he had been taken away from Teyla. She did not enjoy this part of his visits and both her and Kanaan tried to make it pass as quickly and efficiently as possible so as not to upset Torren too much. Or her for that matter. That first day she had been able to hold Torren again, only for him to have to leave again a couple of hours later had hurt. Torren had screamed as Kanaan had carried him away, his tears and desperate reaching back for her had been torture for her. It was not quite as bad as that first day, and hopefully, that Torren was half-asleep tonight might help, but she still dreaded saying goodbye.

Kanaan reached for Torren, saying hello to his son happily. Torren blinked sleepily as he was passed from one set of arms to another, looking rather dazed. There were no tears yet, but he was frowning.

"I should head off," Ronon said as he rose from his seat, his attention turning straight to Torren sat in Kanaan's arms. "Good night, Little Warrior," he said in a soft voice to Torren, rubbing his large strong hand against Torren's hair. Torren grinned and watched Ronon leave, but then dropped his sleepy head against Kanaan's shoulder. Teyla exchanged a hopeful look with Kanaan as she turned away.

Torren's bag sat on the end of her bed with just a few last toys needing to be added. She pulled out his coat, worried that he should really wear it to be taken back to the camp, but she also knew that putting him into the coat now would wake him up and alert him to his departure.

"I will put his coat on before I go through the Gate," Kanaan suggested, having seen her thoughts and she nodded as she folded the coat back up and returned it to the bag.

"How goes the harvest gathering today?" She asked as she secured the bag closed.

"Very well, it is complete. Tomorrow will be the Harvest Festival," Kanaan replied as he approached, reaching for Torren's bag from her outstretched hand.

She paused as he took the bag, hanging it over his shoulder. "This will be the first Harvest Festival I will miss," she reflected rather sadly.

"Doctor Beckett may allow you out of the city for one day?" Kanaan asked. "You are almost as you were."

"It is too soon, but I will be thinking of you all," she replied.

Torren was settled deeply against Kanaan now, his thumb back in his mouth and his eyes drifting closed. She stroked her hand down his small back.

"The festival will last well into the night and as you know I always join the evening hunt," Kanaan said after a beat.

She understood his pause, for it would mean that Torren could not stay very long tomorrow with her. "I understand," she replied as she pulled up the collar of Torren's little jacket to keep him faintly warmer. "I am grateful for you to bring him for however long is possible."

Kanaan paused again before he answered. "I had hoped Nalla could collect Torren from you in the evening, but she has developed a deep chill in her chest…"

The regret filled Teyla's heart. "You will all be far too busy tomorrow to bring Torren. I will see him in a day or so," she concluded.

"I could drop him with you tomorrow morning, but there is no one to collect him and I will be out on the evening hunt even if someone else is free…"

"I understand," Teyla interrupted with a smile. They were going to have to get used to scheduling time between them for childcare of Torren. She just wished it could wait a little longer until such scheduling was necessary.

"Couldn't Torren stay here overnight?" John's question surprised her, and both her and Kanaan turned round towards him. John looked faintly uncomfortable at the attention. He paused in shuffling the cards in his hands. "I just mean, if everyone's drinking ruus wine, having fun, you wouldn't have to worry about picking Torren up if he stayed here…" John's words trailed away at the end, almost as if he felt he shouldn't be suggesting it, but the idea appealed to Teyla.

"I am sure Doctor Beckett would not mind him staying," she considered. Of course, the main person perhaps to worry about him staying would be Kanaan himself. She tried not to frown up at him, hoping that he trusted her enough now with their son. Surely he could no longer believe that she or John were unstable. They were so near the end of their treatments, neither of them having displayed anything characteristic of the retrovirus for many days.

Kanaan looked back round at her and she saw him consider the suggestion, and then he smiled. "If you are happy for him to stay." Her relief was palpable, but she saw Kanaan's faint glance back towards John.

"Are you sure you do not mind, John?" She asked John, even though he had been the one to suggest it. She could feel the delight growing in her to know that tomorrow she would be able to spend an entire day and night with her boy.

John gave one of his casual shrugs. "I don't mind, it'll be nice to have him here."

"He may cry in the night," Kanaan warned. "He has not been very settled at night of late, but perhaps that has been due to Teyla's absence."

Kanaan had not told her that before now, and though she understood why she looked back down to her boy as she stroked her hand down his sleepy back again. She had missed him too.

"That's alright, I cry in the night sometimes too," John joked, dismissing the warning. Teyla smiled over at him, not so much at his joke, but at the wonderful offer. It had been unexpected and so thoughtful of him to suggest that Torren should stay with them.

Kanaan frowned faintly at John's joke, so often not entirely grasping the self-deprecating quality to Earth humour, but he smiled at her.

"I shall bring him to you tomorrow morning, early if I may, and then pick him up the following day?" He suggested.

"Yes, that would be wonderful," Teyla replied, only barely able to control her excitement to be able to be with her son for so much time in weeks. "Thank you, Kanaan."

Kanaan nodded, seeming slightly embarrassed at her gratitude. They had managed to be civil and polite to each other since their breakup, but the tension still lingered. Torren, however, gave them a strong link that would enable them to remain friends, she was sure of that now. It had been tested already by what had happened with John, but that Kanaan had been so kind as to bring Torren to her every day filled her heart with humility and joy.

"He is asleep, so I shall take my leave and see you tomorrow," Kanaan said.

"Until then," Teyla replied. "Night, night, Torren," she whispered as she leant in towards the sleeping Torren and pressed a very light gentle kiss to his temple. He stirred only slightly at her touch and returned to his sleep.

Kanaan turned and walked away, Torren draped against his shoulder. As the curtain panels opened outside the isolation room, Teyla saw through to the late afternoon Infirmary and saw the smiles sent towards the sleeping Torren as Kanaan passed by the beds. Lieutenant Rogers stepped into view at the opening of the curtains, nodded as he smiled and pulled the curtains closed.

The isolation room always felt faintly colder and emptier after Torren left, but she was happy to see the happier calmer departure tonight, and that tomorrow she would have her son with her much longer.

At that thought, she turned back towards where John sat at the table. John looked up from the stack of cards and smiled with the same knowing smile as he did each evening, knowing how difficult it could be for her to say goodbye to Torren. She smiled slightly self-consciously as she reached the table once again.

"No tears tonight," she said as she sat down in her seat again.

"Not just from Torren," John replied, with teasing smile.

She had been unable to hide her feelings from John, especially on that first day Torren had left screaming with tears at being separated from her. She had felt bereft and on top of the stronger wilder feelings she had still been experiencing from the retrovirus, she had had to resist the overwhelming urge to rush back out through the Infirmary to bring her son back. Now, the separation felt as it had always done, naturally regretful, but hopeful to see him soon. Torren would be safe in Kanaan's and her people's care.

She settled into her seat, her arms feeling rather empty and useless without Torren in them. She folded them along the edge of the table before her and as John expertly split the pack of cards and then shuffled the two parts back together again, she leant forward to look at the scoring sheet of today's card game.

"I believe it is clear that I won today," she observed.

John shuffled the cards again. "Day's not over yet. How about Gin Rummy?" He asked.

She smiled at him sat beside her. She was very used to his constant presence now, the tensions from before seemingly evaporated along with the final affects of the retrovirus. That they had been living with each other so closely for seventeen days now in this one room, as well as having shared such a powerful experience as the retrovirus with each other had drawn them closer. She truly now felt that her friendship with John was one of the strongest of her life, and she was determined to enjoy that friendship. They would hopefully be released from the isolation room in four days, if their test results confirmed that they had completely returned to normal. She intended to enjoy her stay alongside John. He in turn appeared to be settled and comfortable staying in isolation room. His company and humour had been a saving grace to her through the 'retrovirus incident'.

"You were never this competitive when we used to spar," she observed.

He began dealing out the cards between them, apparently having taken her comment as a sign that they would indeed play Gin.

"Like I ever had a chance at winning against you in sparring," he replied with a smile. The cards dealt, he set the remaining stack on the table between them and gathered up his cards. Teyla reached for hers as well.

"So, it is in board games and card games that you are competitive," she observed as she separated her cards. She pulled an ace out of her hand and discarded it onto the centre of the table, then collected up a replacement.

"Try playing Pictionary with Rodney on your team," John replied as he picked up her ace and discarded a king from his hand. She decided to pick up his king, exchanging it for a queen on the discarding pile between them.

"You both lost fairly," she repeated as she had several times yesterday following the game.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered as they both collected up a card and discarded one. "McKenzie and Lorne were cheating anyway."

She smiled as she contemplated her cards, focusing properly on the game. She picked up a card from the stack, but it was unhelpful so she discarded it immediately. She looked up at John as he pulled a thoughtful face down at his cards.

"Are you sure you are happy to have Torren stay with us tomorrow?" She asked him seriously.

His eyes lifted to her from his cards. "Sure, why wouldn't I?"

His reply was matter-of-fact. She saw nothing in his expression that suggested that he was not happy about Torren staying.

"He may indeed cry in the night," she pointed out as John picked up a card. With a satisfied smile, he set down a winning hand - three aces and three spades.

"Like I'm not used to being woken in the night," John pointed out.

She had to agree with that. With his position as military commander and second in command of the city, he was used to being called upon at unsociable hours.

Her turn to deal the next round, she reached out and swept the cards together, piling them together between her hands. "Nevertheless, I appreciate it, John," she told him seriously.

"So, it's a sleep over. What could go wrong?" John replied with a smile as she began dealing out the cards.

At which point the lights shut out entirely, plunging the isolation room and Infirmary beyond into complete darkness. Teyla heard the card she had just tossed in John's direction softly flat on the table in the sudden silence of the blackout.

"Uh oh," John uttered worriedly from across the table in the darkness.

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TBC


	22. Blackout

**Note: **Wow, where did the last week go? Struggling this end to get everything finished for Christmas – and if anyone knows of a great present I could give my Dad, please let me know! Why are Dads so hard to buy for? Anyway, here's the next chapter, kind of a shortish one, but full of potential for our couple. Almost near the end now…

Infection

Chapter Twenty-Two – Blackout

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It was pitch black in the isolation room, the darkness so sudden and absolute that it was shocking on John's senses. It was late in the day and with no windows in the isolation room, and apparently no light at all entering in from the Infirmary, there was nothing but blackness around him. Which wasn't right – where was the emergency lighting that should have kicked in immediately at any break in the power? For a second he had the worrying thought that he had lost his sight, but Teyla had lightly gasped at the sudden darkness when it had descended and he could hear shocked voices from the Infirmary filtering in through the doorway.

"What-?" John got out before the emergency lighting finally flickered to life, which in the isolation room consisted of a single weak light glowing over the doorway.

John stood up, now faintly able to see the open space between the table and the dimly lit exit. More light was filtering in through from the Infirmary, but it was equally as low.

"Should the emergency lighting not have come on immediately?" Teyla asked as she rose beside him and they moved around the table towards the doorway.

"Should be immediate," John agreed as he strode forward towards the increasing noise from the Infirmary, his mind already running through all sorts of possible impending disasters that could have resulted in the power loss.

The upside was that he hadn't heard or felt anything like an explosion or anything impacting the city. Or was the city going under blackout for a reason? Damn, he hated being out of the loop. Woolsey and the others had flat out refused to tell him any details about what was happening in the city, clearly at Carson's orders, but Lorne had confided in John that all was well in Atlantis. Clearly, that wasn't the case any longer.

John strained his hearing as he and Teyla reached the doorway. The curtains, as usual, blocked their view beyond to the Infirmary, but John recognised the sounds of concerned action behind it. He strode forward and pulled open the curtain section to reveal the darkened Infirmary.

Unlike the isolation room, there were many glowing emergency lights shining through the Infirmary, but it was still a subdued dim light. It was enough though for John to see immediately that there were no causalities being rushed in and neither did the Infirmary staff seem to be preparing to receive any. John's tension relaxed somewhat at that, but he still snapped his attention to Lieutenant Rogers stood to his right, watching where Sergeant Chan was helping Doc Keller move a large portable lamp across the room.

"What's going on Lieutenant?" John demanded of Rogers.

Rogers looked round startled by John's sudden arrival and John saw that the Lieutenant had one hand to his ear, where his radio was no doubt bursting with orders and reports from across the city.

"Nothing to worry about, Sir," Rogers replied immediately, the words conciliatory, but John saw past them to the lack of real concern in Rogers' voice and attitude, which told John that no one was likely about to blow the city up. It calmed his remaining major worries, but that still didn't mean some other doom wasn't about to befall them all.

"What has happened?" Teyla asked Rogers from John's side.

The Lieutenant smiled at her calmly. "Just some problems they've been having with the power systems."

"Because of the solar flare?" John asked, remembering that Rodney had been called away only ten minutes ago.

"Yes, Sir. Seems that there've been a ton of the flares close together, giving out some weird particles or something that have disrupted our power systems," Rogers explained. "I don't really get the science, but it seems that there were some weak points in our previous repairs to the power systems or something. There were some failures."

"Yeah, I see that," John replied sarcastically as he looked round at the dimly lit Infirmary.

"Are we in any danger from these unknown particles?" Teyla asked.

"Doctor McKay says we should be fine," Rogers replied.

"Really?" John asked doubtfully.

"So he says, and Doctor Zelenka seems to agree."

John nodded, accepting that for now as he ran his eyes over the Infirmary, no sense of impending panic to be seen, but everyone was preparing for potential problems from the blackout.

"Sir, Teyla, I'm going to have to ask you both to step back inside the isolation room," Rogers asked.

John opened his mouth to put Rogers in his place, and to ask what kind of trouble could he and Teyla could cause just standing in a doorway, but Teyla's hand touched against his arm causing him to pause before he got the words out.

"Is there nothing we can do to help?" Teyla asked Rogers calmly.

"Everything is under control; it's just a repair job by the sounds of it. Doctor McKay is predicting power should be back in an hour's time," Rogers replied.

His tone was one that John recognised, and had used himself countless times, it was the tone you used when dealing with civilians. You used it to counteract rising panic and to control a crowd, and Rogers was now using it on him and Teyla. Oddly, the next thought John had about that was that a week ago he likely would have lost his temper with Rogers, maybe even attacked him, but today, John understood the Lieutenant's position. He and Teyla were still under watch and were still considered a potential risk.

John didn't like it or agree with it, but he understood Rogers view. By pushing things, John would only be confirming that suspicion and give the impression that he and Teyla couldn't play nice still. The likely response to that would be the arrival of more guards, probably including Ronon and his stunner. All hands were needed around the city, not babysitting him and Teyla. Besides, what could John do anyway? He was still technically signed off duty on sick leave.

He hated it, but Rogers was right – he should stay in the isolation room.

Teyla lightly squeezed his arm. "Then we shall remain in the isolation room, Lieutenant," she said with that same calming tone. Her hold on John's arm became a subtle pull, which he resisted initially.

"Keep us informed, Lieutenant," he ordered Rogers.

"Of course, Sir," Rogers replied, looking more than a little relieved at not having had to enforce his order on his superior officer. John gave Rogers a strained polite smile to make sure that it was clear that he was playing nice and not about to attack anyone.

Feeling rather resentful, John turned his back on the Infirmary, where he might have been somehow helpful, and headed back into the far darker interior of the isolation room, following Teyla's dark silhouette moving ahead of him. John glanced back to see Rogers pull closed the gap in the curtains, and with that action John's uselessness felt complete.

The isolation room seemed even darker as he entered it again. Teyla was moving away towards her bedside table and turned back round with her two candles in her hands.

"These will give us some more light," she said as she moved towards the middle table purposefully.

Feeling restless, John moved forward to join her, as it wasn't like there was anything he really could do to help out in the city right now. He had to just sit in here and behave himself.

Teyla set the two candles on the table and her lighter sparked to life in her hand. As she lit the candles, John circled the table back round to his former seat, from where he sat facing the highlighted exit across the room. He sat down, trying not to sigh with frustration. He didn't like sitting on his butt when something serious was happening. It would be typical that some alien bad guy would choose now to attack, seeing Atlantis was without power and protection. Of course, any attacking ship would have been seen on the long-range sensors long before the blackout - that was if they didn't just drop in out of hyperspace. Or maybe there was some enemy out there nearby and Rogers just hadn't told him and Teyla.

"There is nothing we can do, John," Teyla told him as she sat down in her seat again. "Rodney and Radek will do the best they can as fast as possible to return power to the city."

John nodded along with her, knowing it was true. "Still wish there was something useful we could be doing."

The candles' flames danced with the sigh he let out, drawing his attention to them. They were the usual solid looking Athosian made candles. The light from them was strong, creating a glowing area of warm light around the table, but it didn't extended all that far beyond into the overwhelming darkness of the isolation room.

"Wish the super-powered night vision had lasted longer," he muttered.

Teyla let out an amused breath at that. "Indeed. Though I do not miss the intrusion of detecting every minute sound and smell from the Infirmary."

"True," John agreed, taking in a breath and as he did he caught the earthy spicy smell from the candles. They had arrived with Halling the other day, and she had only lit them once so far. "Speaking of which, is there something smelly in the candles?" He asked her, looking down at the closest candle noticing dark patches through the wax as it glowed.

"Yes, it is a scent from a flower that is said to calm and soothe," she replied as she reached out to the closest candle to her and turned the solid metal base, which brought the outline of a flower petal caught inside the glowing wax into view. "If you do not like the scent…" She began.

"No, no it's good. Calming and soothing is good," he added.

She smiled with understanding, the candlelight glowing over her features. "I am sure everything is well in hand. Rodney will repair the power systems in no time."

John vaguely nodded. "Sure, he will."

He looked back towards the glowing emergency light over the door. Everything sounded calm enough outside in the Infirmary still.

"We could continue our card game," Teyla suggested. "I may even let you win."

Her comment drew all of his attention from the doorway. "_Let_ me win?"

She smiled at him, rather teasingly he felt, as she held up the pack of cards. She lifted a challenging eyebrow.

"You're on," he said.

With another smile, she shuffled the cards and began dealing them out again.

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Teyla considered the cards in her hand, her enthusiasm for the game rather dulled, as had John's by her reckoning. She was unlikely to win this round, not that neither of them had been keeping score, just going from one round to the next, both too hyperaware of the sounds from the Infirmary, which continued to be little.

Carson had put his head in some time ago to check on them, and had reported that the repairs to the power systems were not going as quickly as formally thought. Rodney's predictions apparently were that it would take at least another hour for the repairs to be complete. Teyla had to agree with John's assessment that Rodney likely had shortened that predicted time, since the blackout was apparently due to a failure in his teams' past repairs, so she fully expected the blackout to last another couple of hours.

John picked up a card from the stack set between them.

She had played more card games in the last week and a half than she had in the past five years in Atlantis. She had learnt new games and developed her skills at the one-person games, but she decided that she had had enough now, so when John set down a winning hand it was with great relief that she dropped her cards onto the table.

"I think I have had enough of card games," she told him.

"You're just saying that because you're losing," John replied with a teasing smile, but she could tell that he too had grown tired of the game.

As he swept together the cards and set the stack aside, he looked away to the clock sat on her bedside table. "It's been over an hour and a half now," he remarked at the length of the blackout.

She sighed as she stretched out her arms and rolled her shoulders. The room around them seemed even darker than before, but perhaps that was just because she was looking away from the glow of the candles. Her bed was only partly visible in the dancing light of the candles, and behind John, his bed was almost entirely lost in the far shadows of the room. Their former rather cosy room felt so different in the thick darkness when they did not know what was going on out in the city. She imagined Rodney would be getting frustrated with the repairs and the late hour. She hoped he was being brought regular snacks to keep his concentration strong.

John set his forearms on the table, leaning over them slightly. The candlelight was warm across the strong angles of his face, and she noticed that the remaining blue around his chin had vanished sometime during the day and that his arms were entirely back to his normal colour.

"We could tell scary stories," he suggested.

She smiled as she stretched her back out and then relaxed her hands back down to her lap again. "Why do your people always feel the need to tell frightening stories when sitting in the dark?" She asked.

"It's traditional," he replied.

"I have heard many of your 'scary' stories, and most of them are movie plotlines," she told him as she too leant her forearms on the table's edge in front of her.

"Still good stories," he argued. "Athosians don't tell scary stories around campfires?" He asked.

"We tend to tell uplifting stories," she replied.

"I seem to remember you telling me that one about that beast of blackstall..."

"Blashar," she corrected with a smile.

"That ate all those villagers," he continued.

"It stole their children," she corrected, pleased that he recalled the story that she had told him at least two years ago. "And it ended well, with the villagers finding its lair and freeing their children."

"I think I've seen that movie," John joked. "I guess, your people had enough to really be scared about with the threat of the Wraith," he added more seriously.

"The threat of zombies was never one we really considered," she replied and he chuckled.

"Come on that was a good movie. It was funny."

"I believe I have seen more movies in this last week and a half than I have card games," she considered.

"I've been holding back a good scary movie though," he added.

She shook her head at him though she was curious. "Is it truly traditional for men to attempt to scare women with frightening movies on Earth?" She asked.

"Sure, it's a classic ploy when you're a kid. Take the girl to see a scary movie, she gets all nervous and who does she cling to?"

She leant her cheek into her hand as she leant her elbow on the table, bemused at his reply and more than a little fascinated at what he may be implying. "Are you intending to scare me into clinging to you?" She asked amused.

He looked faintly surprised as he looked away, but then back to her. With his head slightly dipped, his features fell slightly into shadow, but the candlelight danced in his eyes.

"I'm just trying to share some Earth culture," he replied. His expression seemed far too innocent.

She grinned at his expression, caught up, as she had been several times in the last couple of days, in the new more open teasing between them. The flirtation in those moments felt light, not too obvious, but she was sure it was there, dancing in the air between them. Yet, it was so gentle and comfortable with him that she accepted it with interest, though wondered if perhaps she was not entirely wise to allow herself to enjoy his single focused attention so much when it would be ending soon with their release from the isolation room.

"Are there any zombies in this movie?" She asked suspiciously.

"No," he shook his head. "This is a _proper_ scary movie, one of the best in fact. Something that will frighten even you."

It was a compliment from him, even if it was inaccurate.

"I found that one about the woman who went insane frightening," she pointed out.

"This movie isn't about anything alien or anyone going mad," he replied, purposefully clearly trying to draw in her interest.

"Does it have robots?" She guessed.

He grinned as he shook his head. "Nope, no robots."

She made a show of trying to think what the subject of this new movie might be. "No vampires," she guessed.

"No, too close to our day job," he pointed out.

"This is not the one with the ancient lizards of Earth brought back to life is it?" She asked.

He chuckled again, clearly enjoying this game. "Jurassic Park? No, you've seen that anyway."

"And I haven't seen this new movie?"

"It's not really new, it's a classic movie, by one of the best directors," he replied, his jaw in his hand, mirroring her position across the table, the candlelight lighting one side of his face more than the other.

"Are you expecting me to guess?"

"Back on Athos, your people ever set your camps near the ocean?" He asked.

"There was one site that overlooked the distant shoreline, but we only used it occasionally if the preferred sight on the plains was flooded."

He nodded, his lips pursed, drawing out the conversation as much as possible.

She smiled as she spoke. "So this movie is set near the ocean?" He nodded his head enough to say that she mostly right. "On the ocean?" She guessed.

"Some of it," he replied.

"Not zombie fish?" She joked and he chuckled.

"No, though you're right with the fish part."

That made some sense to her now. "Is this the movie with the giant fish that eats people?" She recalled Ronon had seen it and that he had enjoyed it.

He lifted his jaw from his hand with a smile. "You got it," he said as he reached down under the table and pulled out a DVD case from the shelf below and held it up for her to see. The front picture displayed a woman swimming whilst beneath her a massive sharp-toothed fish was rising up through the ocean towards her.

"Jaws," John said with encouraging enthusiasm.

She took the DVD case from him with a frown, though very much enjoying this conversation.

"How is this different from the aliens, zombies and madmen in the other movies?" She asked as she turned the case over to look at the back.

John had been the one to select the movies each evening, though she had been 'allowed' to choose the genre, which somehow nearly always ended up being overruled by him and Ronon onto action with some horror thrown in. She and Rodney had protested which had lead to last night's movie being a comedy, which had turned out to be about zombies.

"Trust me, it's a great movie. These are real fish back on Earth," he said pointing over the back of the case to the side image of a fish. "They really do eat people, though they usually aren't as big as the one in the movie, but they're big and scary, for real."

She ran her eyes along the text on the back, which seemed to be more praising the movie than explaining the plotline.

"It's a classic back home, a brilliantly made movie. You'll like it," he pushed.

She looked up from the case to him with a smile. "I thought the point of watching the movie was to scare me into clinging to you."

"It's a good movie, but if you're too scared to watch it…" he blatantly baited her.

She rolled her heads at the challenge, though admittedly it did tempt her somewhat.

"I won't tell Ronon you chickened out of watching it," John added as he sat back further away from her.

She shook her head at his teasing tactics as she returned her attention to reading the back of the case. It did seem to be well received and promised a 5 star-rated movie.

She looked back to him, the darkness pressing around them held at bay by the warm glow of the candles.

"I will watch it with you on one condition," she offered. He narrowed his eyes at her, though she could tell he was enjoying himself as much as she was. "That I get to choose the movies we watch for the remaining days we are in here. That's at least three nights more until Carson hopefully allows us our freedom."

"Which I'll really need after three nights of Chick Flicks," John muttered.

"That is the deal," she concluded and lifted her eyebrows to wait his answer.

He made a show of thinking about it and then nodded. "Okay."

"And you have to watch all the movies I choose," she added. "No pretending to be sleepy as you did the other week when Carson and I watched Sleepless in Seattle."

"I was tired," he protested. "I had been turned into a bug. That kind of thing can wear a guy out."

She grinned, but did not fall for it. "Agreed?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied as he pushed back his chair and reached down to the shelf where his laptop was stored. He charged it up most mornings during his workout so it would be fully charged to watch the movie this evening.

She moved the candles aside slightly as he set the laptop down on the table and began booting it up. Standing up from her chair, she turned away towards her bed to retrieve some extra cushions, and as she stepped away, the air felt noticeably cooler away from the candles. She picked up her blanket as well as the cushions and turned back to the table. John had pulled both their chairs round to the closest side, side by side as was their customary seating arrangement to watch movies together. She set one of her extra cushions on her chair and then another in his empty chair. He would say he didn't need a cushion when she lent him one, but he still always settled into the plastic chair without removing the cushion.

As she settled down comfortably in her seat, she heard rustling and looked round to where John had a drawer of his beside table open, which was where they kept their snacks. It was so dark around his bed that she could barely see him.

"You want chocolate or chips?" he asked.

She leant forward and triggered the start of the movie as she considered what she wanted. "I will have chips, please. Salt and vinegar if there are any left."

"We've got one packet left. We need to get Rodney to get us some more tomorrow," John said as he closed the drawer and moved back towards the table, back into the candlelight. As he sat down next to her, shifting the cushion into place behind his lower back, he held out the packet of chips for her.

"Thank you," she said as she took them and opened the packet. She always enjoyed this part especially of watching their evening movies; to settle comfortably and know there was something new and interesting to watch.

The movie began to start, eerie music floating out of the small laptop speakers.

Beside her, John had gone for a small packet of breakfast cereal that he frequently liked to snack on.

"This movie was made a good thirty years ago, so the cars and clothes are out of date," he told her conversationally as he reached behind them to bring forward the tall jug of water that was kept topped up for them.

"What is the type of fish called again?" She asked as she watched the underwater images on the screen.

"A shark," John replied as he set her filled glass of water in front of her.

"Thank you," she told him, but her attention was held on the screen, because the movie had properly started and somehow, already, she was drawn in by what she saw.

Behind the computer, the candles gently glowed, but most of their light was hidden by the raised laptop screen, which made the rest of the room seem even darker around her. Despite herself, she felt faintly apprehensive at the story beginning in front of her and she realised that John might be right – this seemed as if it would be a good movie, but also one that already had her feeling slightly nervous. There was something rather thrilling in that though. For she knew she was safe and John was beside her, she wondered then if that was what was in the experience for Earth women when sharing a scary movie alongside a man. Knowing that they had strong company beside them, and that they were safe. For sitting with John, sharing aspects of his own culture with him, she felt safe and contented.

She glanced away from the screen at a quiet moment and shared a smile with John before turning back to the movie.

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TBC


	23. Review

**Note: **This chapter is short as this section of the story went on too long for one chapter, so it's posted as two chapters, both of which I'll post together. I hope everyone is enjoying the holiday season.

Infection

Chapter Twenty-Three - Review

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The next morning, it was half way through the fifth episode of the BBC's 'Pride and Prejudice' DVD when Carson walked in and announced it was time for their morning dose of stem cells.

"Thank God!" John exclaimed as he quickly jabbed at the stop button on the laptop.

Teyla glanced at him with an amused smile, whilst Torren sat on her lap giggled up at John.

"Sure, be on her side," John muttered at Torren, but it was with a cheerful tone that made Torren smile wider.

Torren had been happily sitting on Teyla's lap since Kanaan had dropped him in early this morning, of course John hadn't really had the chance to enjoy the kid's presence yet because he had since then been subjected to Teyla's DVD choice for the day.

"Who wants to be first this morning?" Carson asked as he set down the usual small tray that held the syringes.

"Me," John volunteered immediately, anything to get away from watching any more of Colin Firth and hysterical husband-hunting young women. He got up from his seat quickly. "Not that I'm not enjoying…" He added weakly towards Teyla.

"Do not worry, there are plenty more episodes to go yet, you will not miss much," she replied with more than a little amusement, as she reached forward and triggered the play button to continue the DVD.

John glared back at her as he reached his bed and climbed up on the edge. Carson stepped into view, reaching for the curtain screen to pull it closed around John's bed to create the private space around the bed. John heard Torren grumble over the intro music to the next Pride and Prejudice episode.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Carson asked as he moved round John's bed, reaching for his tablet and the small digital camera he used to document the progress of their skin changes.

John swung his legs round onto the bed, used to the twice-daily routine. In the mornings, Carson would take photos of John's arms, neck and chest, then give him his injection, and then leave him with the daily questionnaire to complete. John began unbuttoning the front of his shirt as he replied.

"Could have done without the late night wake up call a la Rodney," John muttered.

The blackout had apparently ended sometime in the middle of the night, as all the lights had flared to bright life waking John abruptly. Someone had turned off the lights almost immediately, possibly him, him couldn't be sure, but the deep darkness had returned full force and John had fallen back to sleep. After saying thank you to whoever had turned off the blazingly bright lights, which he still wasn't sure hadn't been him.

"A yes, I think a lot of people got that early morning wake up call," Carson replied as he powered up the small camera.

John pulled off his shirt, sitting up and forward into the usual neutral position so that Carson could get all of his upper chest in the shot. "It's all fixed though right?" John asked.

Carson lined up the camera and pressed the top button. "Aye, Rodney assured Mr Woolsey all has been repaired and even if we get hit with some more of that solar radiation, we should be fine now." Carson stepped around to get a shot of John's back.

"Yeah, well, we'll see," John replied as he turned slightly to give Carson a better shot of his back.

"There's barely any blue left on your back," Carson reported as he stepped round and showed John the final photo shot displayed on the back of the camera. John peered down at the tiny image, pleased to see that Carson was right. He couldn't see anything in the picture that hinted at the changes he had gone through.

Carson stepped back. "Neck's looking much improved as well," he added as he lined up the shot of the side of John's neck. John then turned so the other side of his neck could be captured in digital print. He was getting a little tired of this routine, but he knew it was important and for research's sake. It had actually been good to see the progress of his back for himself, without having to pull bizarre yoga-like postures in front of the bathroom mirror.

"This is all very good," Carson uttered happily as John looked straight into the camera for the face shot. Carson lowered the camera, the pictures complete. John pulled his shirt back on, but didn't start buttoning it up yet as he leant back more comfortably against the raised head of his bed. Carson set down the camera and stood at John's side, peering down with a professional eye at the remaining blue areas of John's upper chest.

"Much better this morning," Carson muttered, as he always did. John appreciated the Doctor's running dialogue, but now the treatment was almost complete, it wasn't really all that necessary. He felt like himself again now, baring a few rather heated dreams, that realistically speaking, probably where normal for him when spending so much time with Teyla.

"Plenty of chest hair growing back," Carson commented with a smile as he entered a few notes into the tablet resting on his arm. John pretended to ignore the running joke.

Carson reached forward and pressed his fingers against the newly softened normal skin of John's throat.

"Good, still some blue around the base of your throat, but the scaly texture is all gone this morning. Very good," Carson mumbled more to himself as he tapped more into his tablet. He prodded further down to John's right collarbone. "Skin over your right clavicle is still slightly scaly, but I think that should revert to normal by tomorrow." He then prodded over to John's left collarbone, which had showed the slowest improvement, as had the area just below it where Teyla had bitten him.

John glanced down at his upper chest, seeing the changes that had occurred even in the last couple of hours since he had looked at his appearance in the bathroom mirror following his morning shower. The thicker insect-like scaly skin had almost completely vanished, except for along his collarbones and the site of the bite wound. That area remained, stubbornly refusing to change as fast as the rest of him. John wasn't surprised, since he had gone through this last time and his initial infection site from Ellia had taken a good week after he left the Infirmary to clear up completely. Likely the same would happen this time.

"Your infection site is clearer than before," Carson muttered.

John tilted his head, but it was difficult for him to see all of the 'infection site' as it was so high up on his chest. However, he could see that some of it had lightened, leaving two darker areas: two semi-circles facing towards each other within the scales.

"You said Teyla scratched you when you fought," Carson asked.

"Yeah," he replied rather noncommittally. "With her claws when we were fighting. It all happened pretty fast," he added, feeling uncomfortable lying to his friend.

"Mmm," was Carson's reply, sounding rather confused now.

John looked round at Carson, who was frowning down at his tablet to which he had linked up the camera to save the photos. John looked down at the photo of his chest that was displayed across the tablet's screen. The contrast looked a little different, clearer, on the larger screen.

"I guess that explains it," Carson muttered.

"Explains what?" John asked, looking up at Carson from the photo.

"It almost looks like there's small individual puncture marks within the general shape," Carson said, pointing at the tablet screen, to each of the faintly darker areas within the scales in the bite wound. Small narrow marks in two semi-circles. To John they couldn't look like anything other than teeth marks, but he wasn't going to admit it.

Carson looked up at him. "Obviously her claw marks, then," the doctor concluded slowly, obviously having worked it out.

"Obviously," John found himself replying, struggling to keep his expression closed and casual. He felt bad lying to Carson, but even more so directly to his face. "It all happened kind of fast," he repeated, his conscience getting the best of him in the presence of good kind Carson who had cured him and Teyla.

Carson nodded. "Of course," he replied, his eyes dropping down to the photo again and then back. John got the feeling that Carson was struggling to control his expression as well.

"And it was dark," John added weakly.

Carson nodded again as he turned and set about unplugging the camera from the tablet. John thought he had seen a smile on Carson's face before he turned away to collect up the morning dose of stem cell therapy. John was ready to give Carson a glare to make it clear that this wasn't a subject to leave the room, but as the syringe appeared and Carson tested it, John was distracted. He hated needles, despite how many had been shoved into his arms and backside over the years.

"I've taken down the strength of the doses some more," Carson reported, all professional again. "Your and Teyla's latest blood tests from yesterday were great, almost there."

John pulled back the top of his shirt sleeve for Carson. "So we're on track to be out of here at the end of the week?" He asked.

The needle slid into his upper arm, followed by the usual pressure of the fluid being injected.

"I'm confident you'll both be out of here in three to four days' time, probably four to be sure," Carson replied as he withdrew the needle and pressed some cotton wool to the injection site.

"Great," John replied. "Whether that'll be enough time to get through all of 'Pride and Prejudice' though…" He joked as he began buttoning up his shirt.

Carson grinned as he set the empty syringe away. "Why are you watching it exactly?" He asked.

"Teyla's making me," John said slightly louder so that she might hear him through the curtain.

"She had enough of the gory horror movies you've all been watching?" Carson asked as he turned away, pulling off his gloves.

"They were all good movies, and you watched half of them with us," John pointed out.

"Aye, I love 'Shaun of the Dead'," Carson replied as he picked up his tablet, tapped away and then handed it over to John.

It displayed the day's version of the daily questionnaire John had had to complete daily since the start of the treatment. Of course at the start, Carson had had to ask him the questions, while now John just tapped away his answers quickly, probably able to do it in his sleep now.

_On a scale of 1 to 5, how would you rate your aggression?_ John tapped the 1.

_On a scale of 1 to 5, how would you rate your ability to concentrate? _John tapped the 5.

_How difficult do you find it to complete simple tasks? _

The questions went on, all focused on his mental state, which was then followed by three short tests that varied slightly everyday. Today he had to put a list of words in a certain order, draw the basic shape of a particular animal and then remember five words in thirty seconds, and all his answers were timed. Easy stuff, well now it was, but he remembered that last week they had felt boring and overly complicated at times. This week, they were easy and he completed them quickly as Carson cleared up the tray and pulled back the curtain again.

Teyla and Torren came back into view.

"He will live then?" Teyla asked from her seat.

"Aye, he'll live, though whether he'll survive Jane Austin is another question," Carson replied with amusement. "Hello Torren," Carson cooed to the kid, who giggled back. Teyla lifted Torren for Carson to take him for a cuddle. "I don't have many people voluntarily staying in the Infirmary with us, Torren," Carson said to the boy as he settled him in his arm. "But you are welcome to stay here, anytime."

Carson had been more than happy to have Torren stay, since the stomach flu appeared to have died away – having completely avoided Rodney – and since John and Teyla were themselves again, he hadn't minded. Though, already most of the nurses had found an excuse to 'drop in' to the isolation room when Torren had arrived.

John slid off his bed, securing the upper buttons of his shirt, which he normally left open, but since they showed his blue upper chest, he was closing them lately.

"Yeah, you're a real hit here, aren't you Torren?" John said as he approached Carson and set the tablet with his completed questionnaire on the table. "I'll take him while you photograph Teyla," John offered.

Carson gave him a faintly embarrassed glare before he turned back to Torren. "He's just grumpy because he likes Jane Austin," Carson told Torren.

Teyla chuckled as she rose from her seat. John sent her a mock glare, which she only smiled at further in return. God, that was some smile she had.

"We are on episode six now," Teyla reported. "If you want to watch what you missed…"

"No thanks, I'm good," John replied back.

She grinned again, that smile that just lit up her face and made him feel more than a little bit warm inside.

"At least you enjoyed Jaws," he pointed out.

"I did, it was very good," she replied instantly and seemingly honestly.

"It scared her," John confided in Carson.

"Oh?" Carson asked of her, continuing the teasing.

"There were some dramatic moments," she replied by way of explanation.

"She almost screamed at one point," John exaggerated, grinning at her.

She had almost left her seat when the dead floating head had appeared suddenly and then she had had to look away a couple of times when someone was being eaten. She hadn't clung onto him though, not even when Quint had been sliding down towards Jaw's open, deadly mouth. She had come close though, turned in her seat, leaning towards him.

He had enjoyed their quiet evening alone together, absent of Rodney and Ronon for a change. The candlelight had given it all a rather romantic feel he had felt, and he would have been happy to sit and watch the light glow warmly over her beautiful features all night. She had smiled at his jokes, teased him in return. Yeah, he had really enjoyed her company on a dark quiet evening together and he was sure she had too. His plan was in effect he felt, and last night, sat with her, he was almost certain she had been lightly flirting with him in return.

"I did not almost scream," she objected to his comment as she turned away. "The fish looked very fake at some points."

Chuckling at her, John reached out to take Torren from Carson, who handed over the boy with a smile and then reached for his tablet.

"Jaws terrified me," Carson said, typically being supportive, though it was probably true. "My friends and I wouldn't even go swimming in the local pool for a month after watching that movie the first time."

Torren felt much heavier than the last time John had held him properly. John had sat with him the last couple of days, wriggling toys and tickling the kid, but hadn't actually picked him up for what felt like ages.

"Geez, Torren, you're getting heavier," John said as he arranged the boy in his arm. Unlike the last time he had held Torren, this time Torren actually held on in return, his arm around John's shoulder.

"He's a perfect weight, aren't you, Torren?" Carson replied as he walked away towards Teyla's bed, and began pulling the dividing curtain across the room from the far side so that her bed would be hidden from the entrance.

John reached down with his free hand and closed the laptop. "Us guys don't want to be watching that do we, Little Guy," John told Torren.

As he turned away to put the laptop aside, he caught Teyla smiling in his direction where she sat on the side of her bed.

"It'll remember where you left it off," John reminded her.

Carson crossed through his view, reaching for the last of the curtain and pulled it forward, hiding him and Teyla behind the curtain.

"It's just you and me now, Torren," John told the boy, though admittedly the others were barely two metres away, simply hidden behind sheets of material, but they would be busy with her checks, photos and then her jab.

John turned his attention fully on Torren. The dark eyes frowned towards the closed curtains that hid his Mom.

"Hey, Torren?" John asked him in an upbeat tone to distract him. "You want to play a game?" Torren looked up at John with interest, clearly knowing that word. When the boy looked up with those dark brown eyes, his resemblance to Teyla was noticeable. "Let's see what we've got in the crate," John suggested as he moved around the table to the toy box that was kept in the Infirmary for any kids staying there.

John crouched down by it, turning so Torren could look down into the meagre supply. Much of what was inside the crate had been Torren's when he was younger that Teyla had donated to the Infirmary and the city in general, but there were a few other toys. John held up a couple, but Torren didn't seem all that interested, until John found a puzzle set to one side.

"How 'bout this, Torren," John said as he stood up with him and moved towards the table, but then changed his mind and headed towards his bed where he could pull up the bars at the sides to make it into a pen like he had seen Teyla do on her bed. He pulled up the far side and end bars, and then sat down on the bed with Torren.

He kicked off his shoes and sat up properly on the bed. Torren had a good grip of the puzzle box John had pulled out of the crate.

"You want to give me the box or eat it?" John asked Torren as he pulled the box's corner from Torren's eager mouth.

Torren grumbled, but John turned the box upside down and the large pieces of the kid's jigsaw fell out onto the bed, drawing Torren's interest. "Your Mom and I put one of these together the other week," John told Torren conversationally as he sat the boy down on the bed in front of him, still amazed to see Torren able to sit up by himself now. "Though it wasn't as tough as this one," John added as he and Torren picked up some of the pieces. Torren chuckled happily, waving the pieces. John pressed two pieces together and laid them before Torren. "See, a smiling hamster."

Torren giggled down at the small amount of picture that had been formed, dropped the two pieces he held and put his hands down onto the hamster with glee. John selected another piece and Torren watched with interest as John connected it with the hamster pieces to show part of a tree and a fox. Torren made a burst of happy noises and pointed at the new part of the picture as he looked up and back to John.

"Yeah, it's good isn't it," John replied. "You want to put a piece in?" He set a piece just vaguely into place. "Push, Torren," John encouraged him as he pressed against it with one finger. Torren dropped both his hands onto the piece and it slid into place. "Well done, Buddy," John told him. "We've just got this last corner. No don't eat it."

The last piece in place and the dancing woodland creatures, plus hamster, was complete. Torren felt across the picture, almost as if he was trying to grasp the creatures in the picture. John grinned down at the boy. He was really cute. Sat on his big nappy butt, happy and entertained by the bright, animated picture before him.

"Like pictures, huh?" John said as he reached out for the latest surf magazine he had been reading. He put the magazine round down in front of Torren, opening it at the start where there was a massive stunning picture of two surfers paddling out across a still ocean. Torren touched the page, fascinated. John turned to the next page, which showed some stunning surfing shots. Torren couldn't understand what he was looking at, but he liked the action pictures, the bright colours of suits and the dramatic shots of the waves. He sat quietly, touching the pictures, deeply interested as John chatted away turning the pages.

Perhaps tired of sitting up by himself, Torren leant back slightly as he enjoyed the magazine, his back leant against John's leg. The boy's warmth and the fact that he willingly and happily settled against John, touched John more than he had felt before. He was used to having Torren around, since the day the kid had been born, since John had held him when he had been less than an hour old, holding him carefully as he piloted a Wraith Dart. John remembered being more terrified of keeping Torren safe and comfortable, than he had been about dealing with the Wraith craft. Torren was part of his life, but being alone with him was rare. With Kanaan nearly always in the city, Teyla had never really needed a babysitter for Torren, but he guessed that would probably change now.

John knew that any involvement with Teyla would include Torren being a larger part of his life, and he was willing for that. He liked the kid and this small moment, tiny as it was, reminded him of the seriousness of any relationship with Teyla. She was a mother, thinking of her son as much as for herself. John had only ever dated one woman who had had a kid, but it hadn't been a lasting relationship and John had never really considered the possibility of a future with a woman with a child.

Things were different now. He already cared for Torren, kind of loved him already, John admitted to himself. With Teyla, John didn't see Torren as a problem or issue, he just was there and John loved him already. Loved his mother already. The emotions were already there, just contained and denied until now.

John ruffled Torren's hair, as he and Ronon always did. Torren giggled brightly, tilting his head right back to look up at John above him. John grinned down at him and Torren grinned upwards, his hair messed and sticking out in all directions. John smoothed it down to be presentable for Teyla.

The sound of moving curtains across the room heralded the end of Teyla's morning treatment. John looked round to see her sat in her bed, Carson's tablet balanced against her raised knees. She peered around the curtain as it was pushed back, and she smiled towards him, presumably relieved to see Torren was relaxed with John.

"She'll live then, Doc?" John asked Carson who was pushing aside all the curtains, repeating Teyla's comment about him.

Carson smiled as he took back the tablet from Teyla. "Healthy as an ox," Carson replied. John had to wonder if Teyla knew what an ox was, but she seemed pleased with Carson's assessment.

"Aye, she's ready to return to Mr Darcy's attention," Carson added.

The rather sarcastic tone to the words drew John's attention to the Doctor, who gave John a very quick innocent smile as he collected up the tray and camera and walked out.

John frowned at the Doctor's retreating back, wondering if the words 'bite wound' would be appearing anywhere in his official medical records.

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TBC


	24. Goodnight

**Note: **Second chapter for today. Hope you enjoy it. We've almost reached Christmas and I've almost reached the end of this fic!

Infection

Chapter Twenty-Four - Goodnight

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Torren's squeal of delight filled the Isolation room as Teyla entered. Just returned from her evening wash, having bathed Torren earlier, she had left him in the capable hands of the rest of her team.

As she entered, Ronon threw Torren up high into the air, her boy flying up, squealing with delight, to descend straight back down into Ronon's strong waiting hands. The laughter that followed wasn't just from Torren. Ronon chuckled deeply as he once again threw Torren straight up into the air. Teyla winced as she approached, despite knowing without any doubt that her son was safe in Ronon's hands, she still felt a mother's natural sense of caution at the sight.

"I won't drop him," Ronon assured her as he had caught Torren again, apparently having seen her wince.

As she passed Ronon, heading back towards her seat next to her bed, she clapped her hand against his strong shoulder, Torren squealed again at seeing her but also as a request to be thrown again.

"I have no doubt of that, Ronon," she told him. "But, if he is sick, you are cleaning it up."

She sat down on her seat, her nightclothes comfortable under her large warm nightgown. She tucked her socked feet up under her.

"He didn't eat that long ago, now I think about it," John told Ronon from where he sat in his seat opposite Rodney at the table, part way through a chess game.

"Sheppard started it," Ronon told Teyla, and she looked back round at John with a raised eyebrow.

"I wasn't throwing him up in the air like that," John argued, pointing to where Ronon was reconsidering throwing Torren again, despite the happy kicking and encouraging sounds Torren was making to continue.

"No, he was madly tickling him, which can lead to vomiting, I'll have you know," Rodney added. "When I was young-"

"Let's skip the vomiting story tonight, huh Rodney?" John asked him as he reached forward and moved a black chess piece forward across the board, which likely caused Rodney's following silence more than the comment.

Torren's happy noises became grumbles drawing Teyla's attention back to him, to see that Ronon had apparently decided it wasn't worth risking throwing Torren around anymore. Torren's annoyed noises rose in pitch, which Teyla recognised as a potential tantrum on the horizon. However, Ronon changed his tactics, lifting Torren up high and blew a loud raspberry against Torren's stomach. The giggles returned and Teyla smiled at her boy's joy.

It had been a wonderful day with him. After her morning injection and checks with Carson, she had found Torren happy in John's company, the two of them looking through magazines together. Delighted at John's care for her son, and unwilling to interrupt it, she had decided to watch some more of 'Pride and Prejudice' until Rodney and Ronon had arrived. Their arrival had been later in the day than normal due to Rodney's late night fixing the blackout problem last night.

John had all but demanded a detailed report of the power situation from Rodney, who had overly explained the poor previous repairs on the power systems and why the radiation had caused failures, and why that hadn't been his fault. Teyla had not taken in all of the details, but it seemed that the problem had been fixed and unlikely to return. John had seemed a little less optimistic, but she suspected that was most likely due to the fact that he felt so out of touch from the city. She understood how he felt, for last night she had felt very isolated and useless to Atlantis. Of course that had lead to a most enjoyable evening with John, sat playing cards with him in the glowing light of the candles, the scent of the candle gentle in the dark air.

She had enjoyed John's company as much as ever, but had felt that it had altered somewhat last night. It had been the first evening that they had been truly alone together, at least in this past week and a half, with no nurses close by and the rest of their team absent. Alone with candles flickering, she had immersed herself into his company, enjoying his full attention. She had then enjoyed the movie he had saved to scare her with, which she had indeed found unnerving at times. She had never seen anything like that story on screen before. As she had told John, she had not spent much time living by an ocean, until Atlantis, and even in the city, the ocean felt distant.

She had heard tales from other worlds about dangerous creatures that lived in the water of their planets, but she had not seen anything such as the sharks in the movie. Though the main character shark had clearly been manufactured, there were shots of real sharks and the pictures and stories in the movie created an unnerving real life story that had been very engrossing. Storytelling at its best and one she would perhaps retell to her people during a story-sharing evening. She did not think that 'Pride and Prejudice' would be told, for it was a too involved story and one far removed from her own culture. She found it a fascinating tale though, seeing an older version of an Earth culture, with somewhat different values, different ideals.

There were many cultures in her own galaxy that were similar to what she had seen on the screen, though not in such lavish clothing and peaceful lands. She had enjoyed what she had seen so far, though perhaps had watched too many hours of it, since she had begun to consider how like Mr Darcy John appeared at times.

She glanced at John sat opposite Rodney, pondering his next move in the chest game, and tried to picture him in a long tailored coat and tall hat, his bearing intense and withdrawn. She looked away, back to Torren, and wondered whether it would have been better to keep to the theme of action movies over romance.

Ronon was now swinging Torren round in a circle, Torren held out giggling. He was going to be far too excited to sleep anytime soon, but she could not be annoyed about that because she was far too delighted to see her son happy and loved.

"Damn it," Rodney exclaimed from the table, sitting back grumpily.

"You giving in?" John asked, his cheek set against his fist.

"No, no, it's just I'm tired. I was up all night fixing the entire city," Rodney replied, sitting forward over the chessboard worriedly.

"Sure, all by yourself," John muttered his reply.

"I beat you last time, remember?" Rodney replied as he frowned over the board.

"I was still half bug last week," John responded.

"I made that point and you still wanted to play," Rodney pointed out. "Besides overall, we usually break even, generally speaking."

"Sure we do," John replied doubtfully as he sat back in his seat. Teyla could tell from his attitude that nothing was going to save this game for Rodney.

John smiled at her and she smiled back, wondering if he too thought of the difference of tonight compared to last night. She loved her team's company, loved her son's presence, but it was in sharp contrast to the dark quiet of last night. She saw the value in both evenings, but she found herself feeling a new sensation, one of impending regret that her time alone with John in the isolation room would soon end. She had so thoroughly enjoyed his close presence, most notably last night, and she wished they could spend more time that way. She wondered if it would be appropriate for her to suggest that they could watch movies together and enjoy each other's company alone in future evenings.

"He's getting heavy," Ronon remarked, drawing her attention away from John's smile. She looked round to see Ronon holding the giggling Torren under his arm, slinging him up and round into his arm. She very much doubted that Torren was getting too heavy for him, but even Ronon could see when Torren should begin to calm down. Ronon lifted Torren up again and pressed a kiss against Torren's cheek. "Night, night, Torren."

Teyla reached up for Torren. "Have you had fun with Uncle Ronon?" She asked Torren, who reached towards her in turn. He giggled brightly in her hands as she settled him in her arms. His weight comforting despite his wriggling to play.

"When's he leaving tomorrow?" Ronon asked.

"Kanaan, or perhaps Nalla from the camp, will collect him tomorrow late morning, or perhaps later if the festival celebrations go particularly well this evening," she added with a smile.

Ronon grinned as he ruffled his hand through Torren's hair. "Ruus wine," he muttered with knowing. "Night, Little Warrior," he said to Torren. "Come on, Rodney," he added as he turned away.

"Wait, wait," Rodney replied hurriedly. "There's got to be a way out of this," he muttered over the chessboard.

"Its checkmate in two moves, Rodney," John replied, sounding more tired than victorious. It had been a long day for all of them and it was growing late. Torren should have been asleep hours ago, but the day had been too exciting to force that upon him.

"Wait, wait," Rodney repeated.

"Night all," Ronon said to the room.

Teyla waved one of Torren's hands towards Ronon. "Say Night, Night, Ronon," she said for Torren. Torren instead grumbled at Ronon's departure.

Rodney, finally muttering defeat at the chess game, stood up from his chair. "I want a rematch tomorrow," he told John.

"Sure, whatever you want," John smiled up at him.

Grumbling, always unhappy to lose against John, Rodney walked away from the table.

"Have a proper night's sleep tonight, Rodney. Then tomorrow you will certainly beat him," she offered with a conspiratorial wink. John gave her a hurt look.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Rodney offered, seeming a little happier. He waved his fingers towards Torren. "Night, night, Torren," he said, as was the running way to say goodnight to Torren.

"Good night, Rodney," Teyla smiled up at him as he moved past and headed out.

Torren grumbled as he watched Rodney leave as well.

"It is time to sleep now, Torren," Teyla said softly as she stood up. "Is it alright if I lower the lighting, John?" She asked.

John looked up from where he was packing away the individual chess pieces into the board. "Sure, whatever. We can have just the candles again if you want," he suggested.

"That would be nice, and Torren is more used to the candlelight at bedtime," she replied as she turned back towards the candles on her bedside table.

"I'll light them," John offered standing up. "You've got your hands full."

"Thank you," she smiled back as she continued on back across the room to where the closest light control was located. Torren leant against her shoulder, but he was fidgeting, unwilling to remain still. Automatically, Teyla began humming softly to him, and as she reached the light switch, she turned back to see John lighting the second candle. He left one on her bedside table, but carried the second on to the middle table. Happy there was enough light, Teyla turned off the main lights, and the isolation room lapsed into a more calming and gentle light. Torren stilled almost immediately, her light humming and the candlelight enough of a routine for him to begin to calm. He rested closer to her, snuggling his cheek into the thick collar of her gown.

She walked slowly back to her bedside, swaying slightly as she hummed, rubbing his little back as she did. Torren snuggled even closer, fidgeting less. Teyla dipped her chin and set her lips against his warm hair. Pausing by her bed, she continued swaying and rubbing his back, and closed her eyes. As much as this was to comfort and relax Torren, she had not realised how profoundly calming this was for her. She hummed gently again, the emotion swelling in her chest, since it had felt so long since she had done this. Just her son against her, swaying, calm and pressed together. The love she felt for him filled her heart and made her smile against his hair.

When she reached the end of the old Athosian song that she had not even realised she had been humming, she opened her eyes. Torren was still awake, but calm and growing sleepy in her arms. She glanced round to the table, realising she had lost awareness of how long she had been humming.

John started as she looked round at him, the chessboard long ago put away. He smiled at her. "You almost got me to fall asleep," he joked quietly.

She smiled at the compliment as she turned away to Torren's small cot that Ronon had brought to the isolation room from her quarters. She bent down and laid Torren in the cot, but he instantly grumbled sleepily, his arms reaching up towards her again.

She laid her hand on his middle, his body extra warm where they had been pressed together. He wriggled in the cot, and she knew that she would have to sit by him to help him finally fall asleep.

"I'm gonna go wash and I'll tiptoe back in," John said quietly as he headed across the room, his nightclothes in his hand.

Teyla smiled round at him. "Do not be too concerned, he usually sleeps deeply, _once_ he falls asleep." Which she suspected might take some time tonight.

She leant against the side of her bed next to the cot and rubbed Torren's tummy gently, which he usually found soothing. Tonight he did not. He wriggled and grumbled still, his arms stretching up at her to be picked up again. Normally she would sit down beside him and wait for him to fall asleep, assisting by humming, singing, or whispering soothingly to him, but tonight she preferred something different.

She reached down into the cot again and picked him up, his complaints dying away immediately.

"Just for tonight, until you fall asleep," she whispered to him. "Since we have been apart so long."

She climbed up onto her bed and laid Torren down on the side nearest his cot, then pulled up the bars that side to prevent him from accidently rolling off the bed. She slid her legs under her bed sheet and blanket, stretching out beside him. She settled herself into her pillow, cuddled up against Torren. She pulled up the blanket a little further to cover Torren, who made happy little noises as he wriggled into the comfort of the mattress. She laid her hand on his tummy, his soft baby smell filling her senses. Her son.

He breathed deeply, his little belly rising and lowering under her hand. She hummed to him again, watching him with unending fascination. His eyelids looked heavy, but he continued to resist sleep, forcing them open if he closed them too long.

Movement in the doorway heralded John's return, and as she lifted her head, she saw that Carson was with him as well. She smiled at them both, John moving back towards his bed, dressed in his nightclothes.

"Sorry to interrupt, Luv," Carson said softly as he neared her bed. "I just wanted to check there wasn't anything else you need, for Torren."

"No, we are fine, thank you, Carson," she replied.

"You have a bottle for him? Water for you both?" he asked as he leant to see Torren better.

Torren saw him and smiled.

"You still awake, Wee Man?" Carson asked Torren softly.

"Perhaps if you say goodnight to him it may help," she suggested. She suspected Carson wished to say a proper goodnight to her son.

Carson took the invitation, moving around her bed. Torren lifted one hand towards him. "You should go to sleep, Wee Man," Carson said softly down to Torren. Teyla pulled back from Torren so that Carson could lean down and press a quick kiss to Torren's cheek. "Night, night, Torren," he said.

Torren smiled brightly up at Carson as he pulled away, and Teyla smiled up at Carson as well as he moved away.

"Night, night, Teyla," he added.

"Night, night, Carson," she replied with a grin as he headed out. She watched as he disappeared out through the exit and then she looked back down to Torren, who was looking slightly more sleepy, but not quite enough.

Across the room, John was padding quietly around his bed, putting away his clothes and as he rounded the closest side, he smiled over at her.

"You want the table candle out?" He asked.

"We can leave it if you plan to read, or watch some 'Pride and Prejudice'," she teased.

He gave her that fun playful glare that she had been seeing so frequently lately, as he headed towards the table. Torren next to her made some grumbling noises and she looked down to see Torren watching John.

John paused at the table, the candle still shining. "You're right, I forgot, Torren," he said as he moved towards her bed.

Smiling as John approached for Torren's goodnight ritual, she leant back slightly as John reached the side of her bed. She looked down at Torren smiling up at John.

John leant down over Torren. "Night, night, Torren," he said quietly, copying the phrase, his voice warm and deep. He pressed a kiss to Torren's cheek. John was leant so close to her, Teyla could smell his fresh clean skin and the warmth of his body.

He pulled back and Teyla smiled down at Torren's happy smile up at John.

"And night, night, Teyla," John added.

She began to turn her head to look up at him, but his warmth neared again and she realised what he was about to do. His kiss touched against her cheek, a brief, but warm touch that sent a torrent of warm delighted emotions through her.

He pulled back immediately and moved away back, but paused. "You want the bedside candle still?" He asked, gesturing towards the flickering candle on her bedside table now a good stretch away from her over the lifted side bar of the bed.

Still rather distracted by his brief kiss, she took a moment to reply.

"I will put him in his cot once he falls properly to sleep, so yes, I will keep it alight for now," she replied, hoping she didn't sound as thrown as she felt. "Unless the light will bother you?" She asked.

"No, I'm good," John replied as he moved away back towards his own bed as if nothing unusual had just occurred. "I might read for a bit, so I'll leave the table candle lit for now."

"Extinguish it whenever you wish," she replied as he reached his bed.

She turned her attention down to Torren again, to distract herself somewhat, but instead she just replayed the warm close moment of John kissing her cheek. He had never kissed her like that, even when others had pressed one to her cheek in parting or in seeing one another again after a long time. He had never done that before.

She heard the creaks of his bed as he climbed onto it, then settling sighs as he got comfortable. She was used to his nighttime settling and she smiled towards him.

He had not pulled across the separating curtains around his bed as usual, presumably so that he could have enough light to read his book. The head of his bed was lowered, but he had piled up several pillows to support himself up into a good reading position. She watched him pick up a paperback book and open it, setting aside a marker.

His bed sheet up over him, he looked comfortable, settled, and so very handsome.

She set her elbow on her pillow and leant her head against her hand, enabling her to look comfortably down at Torren, but also across the room to John.

The room dropped into peaceful silence, broken only with the soft sound of Torren's breathing and the occasional rasp of a turning page. Feeling deeply contented, Teyla idly stroked Torren's tummy, watching him finally succumb to sleep. She laid her head down on her pillow for a few moments, enjoying her son beside her.

She woke sometime later, the room very dark, and Torren fast asleep beside her. She felt heavy with her own sleep, but awake enough to decide to put Torren into his cot. She lifted her head, looking towards the Isolation room's exit, to see the lights of the Infirmary were barely visible through the curtains outside – it was very late.

She reached out in the darkness, her night vision strong enough to make out most things, and she carefully, and somehow quietly, released the side bar and lowered it down from the side of the bed. She swung her legs round to sit on the side of her bed and took a moment to sleepily brush her hair out off her face before slipping her feet down to the floor. She reached down into Torren's empty cot and spread out his blanket, before she reached up to her bed. She slid her hands slowly under Torren, picking him up carefully. He stirred slightly, but was in too deep a sleep to complain. She lowered him into the cot, crouching down beside it to cover him with the other blanket, tucking all the edges down around him, but making sure nothing would work upwards to smother him in the night. He shifted in the cot, but remained asleep.

She stayed crouched by him, half asleep herself, as she waited for him to properly settle. Once he was, she stood back up, stretching out her cramping legs, and sat back on the side of her bed. She looked down to the cot, though it was too dark to see much of Torren. She decided to wait a little longer to be sure he wouldn't wake.

She glanced around the room as she waited, her mind sluggish, but she noticed that she could see more of the room than normal. John had left the curtains open across the room still, even though he would have been the one to extinguish both the candles.

Through the darkness, she could just make out his form in his bed, his blanket over him. He was turned away from her, but she could see the outline of his dark hair against the white pillow.

She recalled the night last week when after her dream, she had slipped to the gap between the dividing curtains and looked in on him sleeping. He had woken then, almost as if disturbed by her presence or watching. Now, she was free to watch him sleep, as he had been of her tonight. It felt significant to her that the room was more open, though it was perhaps too much for her sleepy brain to process further.

Assured that Torren was not be about to wake, she set about climbing back onto her bed. She pulled her sheet and blanket up over her, snuggling down into her pillow. She felt particularly happy and contented as she closed her eyes and began to drift back to sleep.

Her dreams began with a shared kiss and a long walk about an English garden with John.

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TBC


	25. Elephant

**Note: **Wow, 2 months have passed since I last posted for this fic and I am sorry to all at the delay. As many of you know much has happened for me, from sickness, losing a mentor of mine, and just this crazy busy life we all live. Plus, my Muse has not been flowing of late, however, it finally kicked in today and when? When I should have been at a meeting at work (not a very important one) and suddenly the chapter flows! Typical, but I'm happy this chapter is finally complete. Whew!

**Note2:** Also, thank you to everyone who has been sending me reviews for my other works, especially quite a few for the Alliance AU. For those of you are not logged onto FF net when you review and so I can't reply directly to you – thank you. And yes, I am currently working on the 3rd Alliance story – is Iketani dead? Are John and Teyla going to get together? What is Torren, Teyla's father, going to think of John when he meets him? All these questions and more are flowing. I should be able to start posting that fic once this one is completed. And YES, those who are nudging, or throwing things at me, to add more to 'Wishes' it is on the list, I promise. Maybe I need to miss more meetings! Might get fired though… Anyway, onward with Infection – love to you all, Wedj.

Infection

Chapter Twenty-Five - Elephant

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Mr and Mrs Darcy leant towards each other in their wedding carriage and shared a loving yet very polite kiss before the end titles began to run. With a smile of her own, Teyla leant forward and stopped the DVD. She had enjoyed the gentle romance, especially in that it had distracted her after Torren had gone back to her people with Halling earlier in the day. Halling had sat with her and John before leaving, and Carson had joined them for a short time. The Harvest Festival had gone very well by Halling's account, and the final tally of the harvest meant that there would be plenty of surplus for her people to use as trade. The soil of their new home world had been most generous, the weather predictable, and the lands having been untouched for many months had resulted in a bountiful harvest. Her people would be able to trade freely with other worlds and planned to increase next year's planting to take advantage of the good soil.

There had been no overt drama or tears when Torren left with Halling, pleased to see his honorary Uncle Halling, and it seemed that already he was growing used to parting from her again. Though it hurt inside to think that parting so frequently would become a major part of Torren's life now that she and Kanaan had separated, at the same time, she was pleased that he was growing used to it. Torren clearly felt more secure and contented now, happy to leave with those he loved, and seeming unaffected by her previously longer separation from him. She suspected the separation had affected her far more than her son, and that actually pleased her. He was still very young and the sooner he adapted to his new life with separated parents the better it would be for him. He was a strong boy, yet sensitive, but seemed content in the fact that he was loved by so many.

It also pleased her to know that very soon she would be free to spend more time with her son, for Carson had predicted this morning that she and John could likely be able to leave the isolation room within the next two days. After that, she would have as much time as she chose with her son, and that had lessened some of the sadness she had felt at saying goodbye to Torren when he had left with Halling.

As she removed the Pride and Prejudice DVD and set it in its case, she considered that she would in fact miss the relaxed atmosphere of the isolation room. Despite the situation that had led her and John to be kept in here, this last week in the isolation room had turned into something close to a relaxing holiday. She and John had turned the room into a comfortable place to live, and with a variety of people dropping in to visit them each day providing entertainment by their company or from the books, games and DVDs people had been kind enough to constantly supply them with. She was touched at how many people had taken the time to visit them, even just to poke their heads inside the isolation room to wish her and John well. Despite having been essentially imprisoned in the isolation room, she oddly felt more a part of the city than ever before after such kind attention from everyone. Though, she most certainly looked forward to being able to walk freely around the city again.

She closed up the laptop, set it aside, and considered what to do now. John had left some time ago for his daily workout, which he had missed this morning due to Torren and then Halling's presence. She had missed her own morning workout, so considered perhaps working through some of her katas or perhaps taking the opportunity for some meditation. She sat back in her seat and considered instead starting the new book that Jennifer had leant her this morning, but she was distracted from that thought by the remaining Rillaton that sat on the table in front of her. Halling had brought her the treat this morning.

She reached out towards the sweet treat that her people traditionally made for the Harvest Festival. She had shared most of it with the others this morning, and Torren had been allowed a taste or two. She set her fingers to a piece, lifting the light sticky treat up from the few other remaining pieces left in the traditional harvest baskets, that normally she would have helped to weave before the festival. The red cloth inside represented the bounty of harvest, and the sweetness of the Rillaton the reward for long labour to bring in the harvest, as well as a celebration of the riches the Ancestors had given them. She bit into the piece, savouring the sticky sweetness that was created by boiling the roots of the Rillat trees and mixing it with pounded sweet grain to produce the treat. The taste always took her back to her childhood, when the treat had seemed a luxury that might never be repeated.

She reached for another piece, feeling rather indulgent, but then she had missed the Harvest Festival, which she had never done before. She chewed on the Rillaton as she covered the remaining pieces with the cloth – she would share them with John this evening.

The cloth stuck to her fingers slightly, the Rillaton stickiness clinging to her skin. She licked her fingers, but knew from years of experience that she would need to wash her fingers to be rid of it completely.

She rose from her seat, licking at her fingertips. John would still be in the Physiotherapy room running on the treadmill, so the bathroom would be free for her to visit. She headed out of the isolation room to the small gap in the curtains outside. A young Marine stood on guard just outside the gap, a face she didn't recognise, which meant that he would be one of the new personnel transferred from the Daedalus this week. Rodney had reported that five new military staff had arrived, replacing those lost on the Hive ship and before.

She smiled at the new Marine, who was young and appeared to be taking his guard duty very seriously. Beyond him, Teyla could see Lieutenant McKenzie sat to one side, far more relaxed with his guard duty. She pushed the gap in the curtains open a little further with her non-sticky hand.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am," the Marine said politely.

"Please call me Teyla," she told him. He smiled, a little strained but kind enough. "I just wanted to let you both know that I am heading down to the bathroom briefly," she reported, now used to informing the guards of where she was going when moving around the Infirmary outside of the isolation room. Many times over the last weeks having such attention had annoyed her, and particularly John, but they had grown used to it by now, and besides it wouldn't be for much longer now.

"Walk around freely back there, Teyla," McKenzie said from his relaxed position, sat reading a sports magazine that he had borrowed from John's supply. "We're not as interested in you two anymore; you've both become really boring."

She smiled at his teasing. "And there I was considering climbing through another air vent, but since you look so comfortable there, I will remain boring."

McKenzie grinned as she turned away back into the curtained space outside the isolation room, the new Marine smiling politely to her again as she closed the gap in the curtains again. She headed down the curtained corridor towards Carson's lab.

It was empty inside; Carson was likely to be working in the main Infirmary or perhaps at lunch still. The lab looked different today than it had before. There were far fewer computers and supplies around. Only one computer terminal was on, waiting on standby, computer tablets, the digital camera, and an 'I Love Scotland' mug beside it.

The empty feel to the lab, outside of Carson's desk, was once again another reminder at how close to the end of her and John's treatment they neared. This morning, when she had looked at herself in the mirror, there had been no signs of blue or her former stripes across her skin. Only a small area on her right upper arm still had yet to return to normal, the injection site still standing out in scaly blue. John had assured her that her infection site would return to normal as his had done last time, his forearm showing no scar or discolouration from where Ellia had infected him with the Retrovirus last time. In no time, there would be no sign of her transformation, and she would be free of the isolation room, able to return to her normal life, with the only change being her separation from Kanaan.

Yet, she knew this experience had changed her, in that it had given her an interesting insight into the basic mind, the true feeling of freedom, and the powerful extent of her fighting skills. And of course, she valued how much stronger and deeper her friendship with John had become, despite the unexpected intimacy that had occurred that could have created distance between them rather than renewed closeness. She was very grateful that she had not lost John's friendship, and that it had instead regenerated into something far more open, to the point where he had even felt comfortable enough placing a kiss on her cheek last night. Her cheek felt warm just to recall his kiss.

She had been most fortunate in the outcome of all that had happened to her since the mission to Todd's infected Hive ship. Things could have worked out so much worse in so many ways.

The door to the bathroom set off Carson's lab stood open, as it nearly always did, the entrance leading round out of view into the space beyond that held the small shower, toilets, and sinks. She entered, returning her attention to the lingering sweetness of the Rillaton on her fingers, sucking on one of her fingertips to enjoy the very last of the sweet taste.

She became aware of the light steam in the air as she stepped into the main area of the bathroom, and then a sudden movement to her left drew her attention. John stood before one of the sinks, leant over it, his upper body bare as he splashed water up over his newly shaved chin and cheeks.

"Oh, John, I am sorry," she said at the same time as he noticed her in the reflection of the mirror before him. "I thought you would still be working out," she explained at having interrupted him.

He smiled at her though. "Don't worry about it, I'm pretty much done," he replied as he leant forward over the sink again and splashed more water over his chin before reaching for a hand towel, covering his lower face. "I'd had enough of running," he told her with a smile in his voice.

"Not as much fun?" She asked with a smile of her own, recalling their shared opinion of running now as compared to when they had been under the influence of the Retrovirus.

She found her eyes dropping to the wide expanse of John's back, all returned to his nice natural colour.

John chuckled into his towel as he turned and she lifted her eyes to meet his.

"No, it isn't. I'm sure gonna miss that feeling," he said, his smile appearing as he dried off his chin and then along the attractive straight line of his jaw.

She had seen John bare-chested several times before, but seeing him this way today felt different. She felt far more aware of his attractiveness, the wide male strength of his shoulders and the height of him smiling down at her. He was dressed in faded blue jeans and his hair was wet from his shower, the few tendrils of his fringe lying against his forehead, while the rest of his hair stood practically upright. He looked most appealing and today, for some reason, she felt more justified in her awareness of that fact. She found her eyes drawn to the towel drying along the other side of his jaw.

"Are you sick of shaving again yet?" She asked, since he had been so pleased when his beard had begun to grow again after his face returned to normal from the effects of the Retrovirus. He had confessed to her that he normally found shaving annoying, which explained why he so frequently chose not to have a close shave while on duty, however the changes to his face from the Retrovirus had led to him missing the habit of shaving.

"Not quite," John replied with a smile after thinking about it for a second.

The subject of facial and body hair had become a teasing point between him and Carson, John stating that its return, even if it meant shaving, was manly and a clear sign that he wasn't going to stay a 'bug' forever. The area of his chest below the towel displayed John's usual attractive amount of chest hair of which he had been so proud. She could understand why. She caught herself in that thought, rather embarrassed at thinking such thoughts whilst stood in front of him. The slightly flushed feeling that tickled her skin was not helped by the faint warm moisture in the air from his shower. As she drew in the warm air, it was strong with the scent of his body wash. She worked to maintain her relaxed casual manner and hide the interest she felt bubbling up within her.

Only then did it occur to her that it would be more polite to leave him alone to finish washing and that perhaps it was slightly inappropriate to be stood here so long.

"I will leave…" she began to excuse herself, starting to turn away, and already she could see John about to reply that she did not have to leave. However, in that moment, John had pitched his hand towel back towards the sink, revealing the full expanse of his upper chest.

And the blazingly obvious bite wound just under his left collarbone.

Teyla's eyes fell to it immediately and she froze, shocked at the sight of it. She could actually see her individual tooth marks drawn out in dark blue lines in two semi circles within the lighter blue that outlined it all. The area was small, but the alien colour stood out so sharply against his skin, displaying so clearly what she had done to him. It stole her breath for a moment.

A variety of intense emotions washed over her, all tumbling together and conflicting.

The shame at her behaviour, to have hurt him and infected him, was the loudest and most immediate thought. Such a violent act that she normally would have thought herself incapable, yet she could remember feeling the delight she had taken in biting him. To make him like her. She could even remember the taste of his blood on her tongue.

She snapped her eyes away, shocked at the thought, so wrong, yet at the same time full of a sensuality that she could not deny.

The memories flooded forward again. She had held him down beneath her, feeling both angry and confused at his previous attack and attempt to trap her, yet she had known that he was no true enemy. She had known that he was important, and within that thinking she had come to the conclusion that he should be like her. She had wanted him to be the same as her. Her bite had been born of a desperate instinct not to be alone, and the chance to possess that which she had been denied.

That thought shamed her again. It had been violent act, forcing on him something that he had not wanted, and which she had known, in a basic way, would alter him so completely.

Her eyes returned to the bite, forcing herself to look at what she had done to her friend.

He had forgiven her for the bite, for turning him into a 'bug' again, but seeing the remains of the bite now, she realised that she had not truly felt forgiven. Perhaps it was more that she had to forgive herself, but she did need to make sure that he truly understood how sorry she was for such a cruel act.

She forced herself to look up at John's face, up from the healed yet obvious infection site. He was watching her silently, for how long she had no idea, but she saw the light frown and searching look to his eyes.

"Tell me it does not pain you," she asked him quietly, the words slipping from her lips without thought, though that only made them all the more honest she supposed. She dropped her eyes back to the stark blue wound. Her own infection site was tiny, and though she felt no pain from it, she could not be sure that the same was true of his. Her wound had been a minute injection site; his had been a savage bite.

"It doesn't hurt," he replied immediately, his voice, as hers had been, was quieter than normal. "It's just the last bit to fade." There was understanding in his voice, she felt, but she knew that her question had been about more than physical pain.

She made herself look up at his face again, into his eyes that seemed concerned and somehow careful.

"I am sorry for what I did to you," she told him plainly. Her voice held more emotion than she had intended, but far less than what was circling within her.

She had said these words to him before and his forgiveness had been instant, but now she felt that he could see how weighted this matter was for her. She did not want a casual superficial and immediate apology this time, for she really needed to know that deep down he had truly forgiven her. That he understood she regretted her action greatly. For many years she had heard the discomfort and muttered comments from him about how much he had hated being turned into a 'bug' by Ellia before, so she knew how deep this repeat of that infection would have affected him. She knew it could not be a casually brushed aside event for him really, and she would not allow him, or herself, to make light of it. She would face the regret and pain she had caused, as much as she knew he would always forgive her, for at least then it truly would have been discussed and they could move on. Their discussions about what had happened previously had been light, always falling back on the standard blame the Retrovirus explanation, but in truth they had been dancing around what had happened. Though some aspects she knew would remain forever unaddressed, at least the bite and her actions behind it could be resolved.

She looked up at him now, holding his gaze, making sure that he could see the truth of her feelings of regret. That she knew how dramatic and cruel she had been in her bite and in infecting him. She would not shy from that anymore, or allow him to.

Already she could see that he understood, for he had not immediately given his casual evasive excuse and forgiveness as before. His gaze shifted, looking at her expression fully, looking into her eyes more than he normally would, and the light frown between his eyebrows spoke of some inner conflict of his own. She feared for a moment that perhaps his great distaste for being a 'bug' was more profound than she had realised and that perhaps he was not able to truly forgive her for mutating his body. She had not thought that would happen, and still doubted he would react that way, but she still felt momentarily fearful that her actions really were unforgivable.

So, she waited for his response, looking up at his face, the two of them stood alone together, him half bare, the air around them warm and damp from his shower, and the bite wound shining out for all to see who could enter.

"I'm not," he finally replied quietly.

The response threw her for a moment, and she frowned up at him, trying to understand what he meant.

"I'm not sorry it happened," he added, explaining further.

She had not expected that response, from all she had predicted and worried hearing; she had not even thought that he might say that. A sense of relief eased her, but she still frowned up at him, surprised at his point.

He broke eye contact briefly, making her realise how direct and long held it had been. He took a breath, his bare chest moving with the deep breath. His eyes returned to her and she waited for his response with rapt attention.

"If you hadn't turned me as well, we might not have gotten to you in time," he told her, his voice still quieter and slightly lower than normal.

She blinked, considering his point, and ignoring a tiny part of her felt faintly disappointed, having secretly hoped he had meant he did not regret something else that had happened between them.

"I slowed you down," he continued, "and then kept up with you around the piers, and that was only because I was turning into a bug too. If I hadn't, you would have given the teams the run around all night and we wouldn't have gotten to you in time to save you."

She could understand his point, but she frowned. "You would all have found a way. You and Ronon, and Rodney, you would have saved me," she informed him with certainty.

"You would have slipped into hibernation somewhere and we wouldn't have been able to find you," he replied. It was very unlike him to think of such negative outcomes; John keep fighting to the bitter end and then beyond, but now he seemed convinced that he would have failed.

"You would have found a way," she stated, sure that he would have. Her team had so many times found a way to beat the odds. "We always save each other," she reassured him with a smile.

"Like we did for Aiden and Elizabeth?" He asked, breaking through her argument instantly, and she saw the haunted look in his eyes for a moment, that far too closely echoed her own old pain. She nodded her acknowledgement of his point, for he was right – they did not always beat the odds. So many people had been lost from Atlantis over the years. Her and John's team had remained strong these past years, but the threat was real. There were not happy endings for all.

She let her eyes wander back to his bite wound. Perhaps he was right, that in infecting him she had in fact enabled him to save her. That was how he saw it, or at least that was what he wanted her to believe to save her the regret. She looked back up to his face, assessing him, wondering if his argument had been purely, or partly, to reassure her. Either way, he made a point and if wished to believe that being a bug had allowed him to save her, when simply being his normal human self would not have been enough, then she could not deny him that.

"You may be right," she admitted. "But I still wish that it had not been necessary to…" her eyes drifted back down to the bite.

John dipped his chin, looking down at his own chest, to the bite, and then he lifted his gaze to meet hers again, looking at her from under his brow. "I'm not," he stated plainly, the more usual bright sparkle to his eyes having returned somewhat.

It touched her that he was so insistent that her bite had allowed him to save her, that he seemed not to regret what had happened, and that he was insisting that she forgive herself for what she had done. Again, the weight lifted somewhat with relief.

"Even though I turned you into a bug?" She asked him, actually smiling, though still with some regret.

He grinned at that, surprising her further, since never before had he ever been able to smile about the subject. Before after Ellia, he had all but banned anyone mentioning Iratus or bugs in general. Now, here he was able to smile about it, and that lifted her heart greatly.

He lifted his chin, once again looking down at her as he smiled. "Actually, this time I kind of enjoyed being a 'bug'."

Now it was her time to grin, in surprise. "Really?" He nodded faintly, acknowledging the significance that he would actually say that.

"Because of the super powers?" She asked, which had been something they had joked about, or complained about when it had become clear to them both that their superhuman hearing and agility had been fading over the last two weeks. She liked to think there had been at least a small part of the experience that he had actually enjoyed.

He looked away as he smiled again. "They were cool," he said with feeling, making her smile wider. He looked back at her, his smile altering slightly. "But, that wasn't what I meant."

She lifted her eyebrows, questioning and curious as to what else he was going to share, so surprised she had been by him today, by his honesty and at how differently he had seen the experience than she had predicted and feared.

"I mean the part we don't talk about. The elephant in the room," he replied carefully, his eyes on her.

Yet again he had shocked her, but before she allowed herself to jump to the conclusion that she hoped he was referring to, she paused, wanting to make sure she understood what he had said.

"An elephant is one of those large Earth animals?" She asked, wanting to make sure she understood clearly.

"Yeah, those," he replied. "With the long trunk," he added.

Someone had given Torren a soft toy that depicted one of those animals, though she was sure that the mammals were not purple as was Torren's toy.

"But, they are not normally purple though?" She asked to be sure.

John smiled, knowing that she was referring to Torren's toy. "No, they're not. Though, maybe this one would be blue, like we were."

Despite his humour, the seriousness of the situation hit her. Was he truly referring to what had happened between them under the water tank? Excitement pushed her heart rate up suddenly. She took a breath to calm herself, for she was not sure yet that she had understood him correctly. Though, had he not said that he had enjoyed being turned into a bug because of this issue…

She realised that he seemed closer, though she thought she would have noticed him step forward. Perhaps it was simply that suddenly she was very much aware that they stood close, entirely alone, with no nurse or guards within hearing distance for the first time in weeks. The attractive scent of him filled her senses, as did the wide handsome expanse of his bare chest before her.

She drew another breath as she looked up at him, hoping that she had not misunderstood.

His expression seemed cautious to her, waiting for her response, and she realised that she had not answered him yet, so caught up in the fact that he might actually be speaking about this. She instantly regretted her silence, though had no idea how long it had lasted, for he had been the one, unexpectedly, to tread into this previously avoided area. She did not want him to think that she was about to turn him down, if he truly were offering…or did he simply wish to speak about the 'blue elephant' in the room? She had thought he had wished to leave the subject of what had happened between them alone, that he had been happy with the explanation of blaming the Retrovirus. Yet, this past week particularly, there had been a playful, almost flirtatious mood between them, and looking back on that, added to last night's soft kiss to her cheek, a new theory blossomed in her mind.

She studied his eyes again for a second, wondering if she was simply projecting something she had wanted for a long time onto this situation. However, in John she saw enough tension and held breath that she suspected her instincts were right and that she was over thinking the situation far too much. She should have learnt that from her experience from the Retrovirus – that sometimes one just has to act from basic deep feelings.

John's expression shifted, as if he had seen something in her face that had lessened his tension somewhat, and she saw the sparkle in his eyes grow slightly. The excitement and sudden warmth in her chest made her feel giddy for a moment. Was this truly, finally happening?

The air between her and John seemed somehow stronger, warmer, and she had the impulse to move closer to him. Towards his handsome, normal human skin. She recalled so clearly when they had circled around one another out in an unnamed corridor of a pier. How the circle had tightened, and how he had stepped right into her space, making her see and acknowledge him. Their minds had slid together and she had seen the look of desire in his altered alien eyes. Now, his normal human eyes smiled cautiously down at her, and she knew that he too no longer reacted from pure basic feelings, now there were doubts, worries, and questions for him as well. But, she was sure in that moment that she saw some of that same desire in his unusual green eyes, the dark centres seeming to grow wider as she looked up at him.

She found herself smiling then, delight coursing through her veins, and for a moment she was caught between holding this moment of potential for as long as possible, yet also desperately wanting to break it and find out what was to follow.

This time she definitely saw him shift his weight and step closer. She kept her eyes on his face as he moved closer, knowing that she could no longer hide any of her emotions from him.

He moved forward again, right up into her personal space, just as he had done before out in the pier, but this time it was a natural steady approach, his dark eyes on her and she lifted her hands to touch him. The warm skin of his chest and the tickle of chest hair met her fingertips as she touched her hands to him, as he leant forward and she stretched up slightly to meet his descending mouth. Heat and undeniable desire of her own drove her now, with no question, and she realised a split second before their lips met, that despite what they had shared under the water tank, they had never kissed during that time.

With that sudden knowledge and with all the eager desire she had repressed for so many years, she pressed her lips to his.

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TBC


	26. Kiss

**Note: **Sorry it's a slightly shorter chapter, but I've only got this afternoon to work on the fic, so I thought it would be better to post something.

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Infection

Chapter Twenty-Six - Kiss

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The opportunity had arrived so suddenly, and he had taken it.

In his mind, he had practiced the ways he could bring up the subject of what had happened under the water tank between them. In fact, he had been dwelling on that very issue as he had run on the treadmill earlier, only to grow bored of the dull exercise and rather frustrated at his own circling thoughts. He had come to the conclusion that that there really wasn't a casual subtle way of bringing up the subject of their former mutated bug induced passion in normal conversation. So, he had decided to cut to the chase and just ask her out to dinner. Straightforward and to the point.

He had taken a long warm shower to relax his stressed shoulders and had turned his attention on how to ask her out as he set about shaving. He would wait till the time felt right, maybe during another one of those relaxed flirting moments they had been sharing a lot this last week. When her eyes were soft and dark, and directed solely on him, and then he would man up and ask her the question. Well, not 'The' question, not yet…

He had frowned at that wandering thought as he had slid his hands into the warm water in the sink and splashed it up over his face, washing away the remaining suds from his jaw. Only then, to look up and see Teyla looking back at him in the reflection of the mirror in front of him.

Feeling faintly unnerved by her sudden appearance, and what expression she might have seen on his face and hopefully that he hadn't been muttering to himself out loud, he quickly washed off the last of the shaving cream and grabbed a towel to dry his face. But, in typical Teyla form she wasn't thrown off by anything, and had simply began talking to him as normal, while he was vividly aware that all he was wearing was a pair of jeans and nothing else, and that last night, he had kissed her cheek.

He wondered if she had been thinking of that innocent enough kiss since, because it had preoccupied his thoughts since he had pulled back from her soft cheek last night, away from the warm feminine scent of spice and flowers around her. That scent of her had haunted him a little since, and when stood even vaguely close to her he had caught himself drawing in deep breaths to catch the scent of flowers and sweet spices.

Then she was backing away, wanting to leave him to finish up his shave in peace, and despite his former discomfort at her sudden appearance when he stood here so literally exposed to the cool air and her, he had immediately opened his mouth to make excuses for her to stay. He had wanted to extend this tiny isolated moment between them when they were completely alone for once; there was no guard just outside the door, no nurse likely to walk in at any moment as in the isolation room.

The sight of the bite wound had stopped her leaving though.

He had watched the shock on her face transform into guilt and painful regret, and he had instantly forgotten all his own issues and possible plans, because all he wanted then was to bring back her soft smile. He tried to reassure her that the bite didn't hurt, but he could see that what she had done had affected her far more than he had realised. He couldn't remember ever seeing her eyes and expression so full of regret and something far too close to horror for him to stand.

It had gotten him thinking though, about the bite, something he hadn't really let himself do because, despite the aggression she associate with the act, the bite meant something else to him. Something that he had not allowed himself to think about too much, because he had never been the type of guy to like pain, or any kind of dominance whatever stuff. Yet, remembering the moment when she had spontaneously and almost possessively bitten him, what he felt was far from regret and horror.

From there he had realised, looking down at her needful eyes, desperate to make amends with him, he had known that given the same situation he would have eagerly gone through it all again. For in biting him, she had not only allowed him to help save her in the end, but it had begun a powerful experience as the transforming bug that he could now admit that he had enjoyed. His last Retrovirus experience had been far different, but then he had been angry about it, afraid, and locked away in the Infirmary and then his quarters. This time, he had been free, running with Teyla, intent to help her. He had been able to focus on the benefits of the bug thing as well, such as the excitement of racing with her through corridor after corridor, jumping over balconies and landing as light-footed as a cat. It had been exciting and thrilling in a way he had never appreciated last time, and of course had accumulated in being with her under the water tank.

Yes, this time he had enjoyed being a bug, and he told her that honestly. Only she had wanted to know why, and suddenly the formally unmentioned incident was on his lips. As soon as he had said it, finally spoken the words out loud, drawing attention to what they had cleverly both avoided until now, he had felt a nervous chill across his skin. After all his planning and practiced words in his head, he had instead just blurted out the subject to her. Very slick, John.

And unsurprisingly, she had looked shocked, but fast behind that surprise there had been something else to her reaction. He had seen it instantly, locked onto the shift of her expression and eyes. She hadn't answered him directly, instead seeking to define his question, but John had seen enough. He had seen her quick second in breath, seen the parting of her lips. As his bug self had done, now John trusted in his instincts, and they shouted at him to make his move now. His opportunity had arrived. He might actually have a chance.

He had shifted slightly closer to her, watching her carefully as she looked away, taking another breath, her chest rising noticeably against the thin top she wore. Her eyes had lifted back to meet his, and he had waited, for once in his life keeping quiet, as if talking might ruin the moment and would send her running away from him. He remembered out on the pier with her, when he had begun to completely slip into his bug mentality, he had circled her, eager to get physically closer to her and ever hopeful that she would finally acknowledge what he had felt might be between them for all these years. The unspoken attraction he had always felt for her, compounded with a shared life on the frontline, respecting each other, protecting each other, saving each other, all building the evitable affection on top of the strong physical attraction. An attraction that had allowed him up close to her out on the pier, allowed him to touch her, to hold her, and ultimately to share some passion with her.

He swore he could literally feel that same attraction in the air between them now. Surely he wasn't imagining it. As he watched her watching him, he had seen the softening of her expression, the look of real interest in her eyes, and every instinct told him now was the time to take his chance.

He had moved closer to her and, unlike last time out on the pier, this time he slid into the warm feminine scent of flowers around her. He had been able to see the subtle play of her expression, seen her cautious surprise, but she held still, watching him, her lips parted and her eyes dark.

He had stepped even closer to her, and as her delicate chin had lifted to maintain eye contact with him he had seen the soft acknowledging smile on her lips, knew it echoed his own as he stilled, barely two inches between them.

Her fingers touched gently against the middle of his chest, the contact simple and light, yet it shouted out a reaction through him that had all thought slipping away. He dipped his head down towards her, felt the touch of her fingers grow warmer against his chest as she lifted up towards him, and suddenly, finally, he touched his lips to hers.

Her lips were as soft as he had imagined, and as he pressed his against hers, he felt the giving plumpness of them as her pressure met his. It was a simple kiss, a press of closed lips, but it filled his senses so sharply and intensely. And through it, his heart hammering and his breath running out, he caught the taste of the sweet Athosian treat on her lips.

Far too soon, the pressure of her lips eased as she pulled back from him, her lips parting from against his slowly, exquisitely slowly, and he became aware that, other than her fingertips against his chest, they touched nowhere but at their parting lips. As the sweet softness of her lips left his entirely, he almost whimpered at their loss, his senses wrapped up in the spicy flowery scent and the arousing warmth of her body only an inch from his.

He reached for control, for some measure of mental clarity, but she remained so close, the warmth of her mouth still so close, and he felt the warm wash of her breath against his lips. He drew in her breath, the action achingly arousing, and he opened his tightly squeezed eyelids a fraction to see the blurred shape of her cheek and the new rosier colour to her parted lips. The reality of it all tried to break through the hazy spell in which he was entrenched, but he resisted the clarity, and the niggling fear that at any moment she was going to change her mind, step away from him and break his heart for good.

He heard her in breath, soft and gentle as a caress around him, and he felt the quiver of air between them, then the soft grazing touch of her cheek against his, the plump edge of her lower lip just catching against his. He turned the fraction it took to press his cheek and nose against her skin, inhaling the womanly fragrance of her. It engulfed him, and with her next warm ghosting breath against his skin, he felt her fingers spread wider against his chest and the heat of her palm between them pressed against him.

Eagerness thrummed through his veins and the smooth texture of her skin arrived under his fingers as he slid his hands gently around her elbows and up the elegant line of her bare upper arms. He felt the faintest shudder under his palms and within her breath that grew hotter against his cheek as her lips grazed against his newly shaved skin. He slid his hands from her arms, around and across her back, which arched up towards him slightly as he gently pressed against her spine, drawing her across the tiny distance between them.

The heat of her body met him from his knees to where her hand was crushed between their meeting bodies, and simultaneously her lips were against his once more. He had no idea which one of them initiated this kiss, only that it threw what few thoughts he had remaining out for good.

The warm wetness of her lips hit him first, along with the open heat of her mouth and possessive desire burst through him. He slid his tongue between her open inviting lips as he pressed their mouths tightly together, one of his hands tangling up in her hair. Everything faded away from his consciousness except for the explosively intense taste and texture of her mouth.

Her tongue sliding against his.

The sharp whimpering breath she snatched before her mouth met his again.

The eager press of her fingers digging into his chest.

Her other hand sliding around his bare shoulder, cupping and squeezing up the back of his neck up into his hair.

The arch of her back increasing as he slid his hand down to the small of her back, capturing some of her top in his tight grip as she angled her head more sharply and pushed the kiss even deeper.

A sudden crash of breaking ceramic cut through the air and shocked him from the kiss. His lips parted from Teyla's abruptly and he felt her body tense in his arms.

"Bollocks!" Carson swore loudly from the other room.

John's eyes snapped to the bathroom's entrance, his arms tightening around Teyla a fraction. The entrance was empty of Carson though, and a second later John's brain caught up with his reactions and he realised he had reacted as if he and Teyla had been caught by a disapproving parent. The wash of relief he felt transformed into amusement at himself and at the fact that he had almost been caught making out with Teyla in the bathroom.

Teyla seemed to come to the same conclusion that they had not been discovered for the tension left her body, and, enjoyably so, she didn't pull back from his arms. She let out a sigh of relief, her head turned to look over her shoulder to the entrance as well.

"Bloody cheap American mugs," Carson cursed loudly from the lab, his voice full of more aggression than John had ever heard from the kind doctor. For some reason that only made the swearing, which was delivered with a heavier Scottish accent than normal, all the more amusing, though perhaps some of that amusement was due to adrenaline. John drew his eyes from the entrance down to Teyla still mostly pressed up against him.

"His favourite mug," Teyla whispered with sympathy. Carson was rarely seen drinking out of anything but his 'I Love Scotland' mug nowadays. That was going to change.

"…had actually been made in Scotland…proper tableware…" Carson's grumbles continued along with the soft clatter of him gathering the pieces of broken mug. It occurred to John then that if Carson had spilt some coffee…

"You think he'll come in here?" John asked worriedly as his gaze returned to the open entrance to the bathroom.

He felt the return of tension to her body as she pulled back from him slightly and he dropped his eyes to meet her upturned gaze. He saw the mixture of amusement and concern in her eyes.

"They may have already noticed that we have both been missing from the isolation room," she considered.

John hadn't thought about that and he had no idea how long he had been in here, how long they had been kissing… His gaze dropped to her lips, his hands tightening against her back where he held her against him still. But, Teyla was looking away, over her shoulder back to the entrance.

"…bloody mess," Carson's muttering was growing louder and it pulled John's wandering lustful mind back on target. He held still for a second, but was immediately sure that Carson's voice was growing closer.

"…can't make a proper cuppa…"

Teyla pulled away from him immediately, and he dropped his hands from her, his mind turning with military speed through their options.

"Hide in the stall," he suggested in a hurried whisper and she rushed away from him, sliding out of view behind the closing door to one of the toilet stalls.

"…who puts cream in tea anyway," Carson's angry muttering continued, so close to the bathroom's entrance now.

John turned back towards the sinks, reorienting himself to where he was in the room and he stepped up to the sink he had been using earlier. He looked immediately into the mirror and rubbed at his mouth. Teyla didn't wear lipstick, but she used a lip balm or gloss thing that he had seen on her lips before. He tasted that Athosian sweet treat again as he licked his lips. He stuck his hands back into the sink of water and splashed it up over his face. Only it was now cold and full of old suds from his shave. Wincing at that, he activated fresh water and quickly splashed up fresh warm water over his cheeks, looking as if he had only just finished his shave as Carson abruptly arrived in the reflection.

"Oh, John," Carson said with surprise and a flush of embarrassment crossed his face, which John suspected was related to the long diatribe Carson had been cursing about poor mugs and bad tea on his way in. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in here." John only just bit back his reply that it was the theme of the day anyway.

John picked up his hand towel and dried off his face again. "No worries, Doc. You break something out there?" He thought he sounded pretty casual and relaxed, despite the fact that he could still feel his pulse in his crotch.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Carson replied with another one of those embarrassed expressions as he glanced back towards the lab. "My favourite mug." He moved past John to the other sink and began washing his hands of cold coffee.

John gave him a sympathetic look as he set aside the towel and rinsed off his razor again, just so it was clear that he had been shaving and not making out with Teyla. His eyes rose to the partial reflection of the stall door behind him, and he felt the first real flush to his skin.

"Um, you know, I didn't really mean what I was saying about America just then…" Carson began to make excuses. John smiled at the kind man who felt the need to apologise for just getting upset at no one but a mug and the lack of proper tea.

"I didn't hear a thing, Carson," John assured him.

Carson smiled gratefully. "I'm not having the best day that's all."

"Oh?" John asked as he reached for his shirt and pulled it on. He needed to get Carson out of the bathroom, so Teyla would get the chance to slip out by herself.

"The biochem lab had another one of its glitches, lost my whole batch of test results," Carson grumbled.

"Tests on Teyla and me?" John asked as he buttoned up his shirt.

"No, from my latest research project," Carson replied as he wetted down a paper towel and gathered some more to go clean up the coffee mess. "Have Little Torren and Halling left already?" He asked like he was ready to stand and have a full conversation with John in the bathroom.

"Uh, yeah, ages ago," John replied as he stuffed all his toiletries in his small bag and reached for his workout gear. He turned towards the entrance, body english to encourage Carson to walk with him out of the bathroom.

"He was good over night I hear?" Carson asked as he walked with John away from the sinks.

John glanced casually back over his shoulder, back towards the stall door that remained tightly closed. "Yeah, he was good as gold," John replied.

Carson stopped in the doorway and John froze next to him. "It's good to have wee ones around, reminds us all that there's more to life than fighting," Carson considered philosophically.

"Um, yeah, he's great," John agreed, wishing Carson would have chosen a better time.

With another, hopefully subtle, glance back into the bathroom, John set his hand on Carson's shoulder and smiled at him, pulling him with him out of the bathroom. "You getting broody, Carson?" he teased.

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TBC


	27. Moving

Infection

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Moving

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With her hands pressed to the thin wall of the stall door, Teyla listened as John worked to lead Carson out of the bathroom, despite the Doctor's attempt to begin a philosophical discussion about the benefits of Torren's presence in the City.

She smiled at the faint anxious edge to John's replying words as his voice moved further away, Carson's reply just barely audible as they finally left the bathroom. Teyla remained still though, her ear turned, almost pressed to the door along with her hands as she listened intently to the sudden silence, working to pick out any sounds of movement in the lab beyond the doorway. It was difficult though, since the thumping of her heart was so loud.

Now so aware of the still rapidly beat in her chest in the silence, she drew in a breath, working to calm herself. The agitation of almost being discovered in a less than professional situation by Carson was not the real reason for her quickened pulse she knew.

She closed her eyes and let her forehead drop the tiny distance to rest against the stall door. Like most of the metal that the Ancestors had used to construct the inner doors of the City, it was not as cold to the touch as one expected of metal, but it was cool enough to feel the contrast against the heat of her body. Or perhaps it was the stark contrast of touching cold flat metal as compared to the warm, breathing texture of John's skin…

She took another breath, all attention on the lab forgotten as the warmth redoubled through her body and she finally allowed herself to process what had just happened between her and John.

Strangely, their kiss had felt more intimate and profound than all that they had physically shared as their mutated bug selves before. This had been John, her John, actually touching her in ways far from friendship. His kiss had been enlivening and entrancing in a way she had not experienced before. She felt rather lightheaded just to recall it. She and John had kissed, and it seemed that after so many years of longing and wishing, her desired dream had come true. It had been so much more than she had expected though, his touch had felt like fire burning away all of her self-composure and control. She had never kissed a man like that, so deeply, so passionately, so…

She took another breath and pulled her thoughts away from the lustful and onto those of control. Yet, even as her heart calmed and her skin felt cooler, as she opened her eyes, her smile would not fade. There was nothing wrong feeling happy and rather…shy was not the word, but she felt oddly vulnerable in a new enticing way. She knew she had expressed her desire for him without any restraint, but then hadn't he as well? She had clearly felt the press of his manhood against her belly, the tight grip of his hand in her hair…

She took another breath, smiling at herself now. It had been a very long time since she had enjoyed a kiss so much, not since she had been a teenager sneaking away into the forest to capture a few kisses from Cherson when he and his father had visited the Athosian camp. Stolen kisses they had shared hidden away from all adult eyes, and it had been almost with the same fear of discovery that she and John had just reacted to Carson. She shook her head at herself and John, two adults, skilled warriors with years of experience of fighting the most frightening of creatures, had reacted like two naughty teenagers caught kissing by disapproving parents.

She had to hope though, that John's interest would last far longer than Cherson's had, but if their encounter under the water tank had been what had opened his mind to the possibility of their friendship becoming more she would not argue. Though she had thought of John in more than friendly terms for many years, she did not expect that he had in return, and she would take whatever passion he would share with her now, even if it were to be fleeting. That kiss had shown her clearly enough the depth of passion there was to John, and in herself, and she would not shy from that.

She turned her ear to the door and listened more carefully once again to the sounds outside the lab, but could not make out any voices. She would chance her escape now, and simply behave as if nothing untoward had occurred if she was seen. After all she was simply exiting a bathroom.

Still amused at herself, she triggered the stall door open and stepped out into the bathroom. The air was most definitely cooler now, the steam from John's shower long gone, and she had to wonder how long they had spent in here, and how long she had remained smiling in hiding. She headed for the exit, listening all the way, but as she peered into the lab outside, she saw no one present. A plastic bin stood away from the closest wall, its usual inner plastic lining missing, presumably being thrown out with the remains of Carson's mug.

She moved through the lab at a casual normal pace, and felt her more normal demeanour slide into place. To anyone else she hoped she would appear nothing but her normal relaxed self, her 'poker' face she employed so frequently in trade and on missions, falling easily into place. However, inside, her heart remained warm and thrilled with her newfound passionate experience with John.

As she reached the exit to the lab and into the curtained hallway that led to the isolation room, she noticed that the Infirmary sounded far busier than usual. As she turned the slight curve to the curtained corridor, John's back came into view near the gap that led out into the busy Infirmary. Ronon and Lieutenant McKenzie stood with him. Already she knew something had occurred, simply by John's posture; his hands were on his hips, his shoulders pulled back and level, and his feet firmly planted. She quickened her steps, all previous thoughts forgotten as she assessed the situation.

"…the last should be sent through with Lorne," Ronon was saying and he glanced around John's shoulder as he saw her approach, the faint lifting of his chin and eyebrows his greeting. "Hey, Teyla."

"What is happening?" She asked as she reached them, stepping into the spare space between John and Ronon, and consequently she was now looking directly out into the Infirmary through the gap in the curtains. The Infirmary was as busy as she had predicted, but those being helped up onto beds were unfamiliar to her. Their clothes were dirtied and their faces held the common shocked expression of those who had survived an attack, perhaps a culling; she had seen that expression enough times in her life.

"Wraith attack," John supplied succinctly, his voice shifting enough for her to tell that he was looking at her, but she kept her eyes on the fearful beyond the curtains. She ran her eyes over the clothing she could see, the remaining jewellery around battered wrists and necks.

"The Flamians," she concluded. They had been trading partners of her people for many generations and she had brokered a trading deal with them for Atlantis only a few months ago. "What happened?" She asked finally looking up at John.

"Rodney predicted a Wraith hive we've been watching was scheduled to stop over their planet," John replied, and in his voice and eyes she could see concern for her, knowing that the Flamians were long time friends of her people.

"Lorne led a five team mission to warn them and evac the planet if needed," Ronon continued and she looked round to him, noting some dried dirt on one side of his shirt and the faint closing scratches down his nearest arm. The faint scent of burning lingered around him.

"The Flamians have a large population," Teyla replied worriedly.

"Most of them got to their tunnels before the Wraith showed up, but there was some resistance among those left out in the open," Ronon reported.

"Resistance?" Teyla asked, surprised that the Flamians would not trust those from Atlantis.

"There were some plague survivors apparently," McKenzie put in. Teyla detected in him some of what she felt, and no doubt John as well, the wish that he had been there to help out in saving the Flamians. "Some of the locals objected to their presence," McKenzie summarised. His tone said enough, and it was far from a new problem.

"The Wraith knew they were there?" She asked.

"Doubt it," Ronon replied as he leant forward slightly to see into the Infirmary again, where a new group of injured were arriving. "It was a normal culling." His distaste was clear, but she understood.

If the Wraith had thought there were plague victims on the Flamian home world they would simply have destroyed the settlements and people from orbit. That the Wraith culled the world said that some would survive. It was far from the best outcome and she hated it, but it was better than the complete destruction of the Flamian people as had happened with other infected populations. A lesser evil, but an evil no less.

"What if the Wraith fed on one of the plague victims during the culling?" She asked. "If they realise there may be some infected with the Hoffan-"

"We brought the plague victims with us," Ronon interrupted, gesturing out into the Infirmary.

"All of them?" John asked.

"They were all camped together," Ronon replied, seeming confident in the conclusion.

It shocked Teyla to think that the Flamian people might turn on those who had been simple victims, unlucky to have lived on a world infected by Michael, but lucky enough to have survived the Hoffan's solution to the Wraith, only to become hated by others.

"What's the situation with the Flamians now?" John asked.

"We had the Gate open when the Wraith arrived," Ronon replied, which meant that at least the remaining Flamians above ground had had an exit off the planet. "Lorne was keeping the Gate open for the last on the surface in the local settlement. Maybe ten more when I left."

"Hopefully seeing you all leaving through the Gate will make the Wraith think most of them got off the planet and they won't then go digging round for those hiding underground," John considered. Teyla nodded with that thought; hopefully that would be the case. Despite the years, and the many cullings she had lived through and witnessed, it never got any easier.

"Either way, you two don't need guards any more, so we're shifting to keeping the peace in here," McKenzie said as he looked out across the busy Infirmary, more people arriving with each passing moment. Teyla smiled at McKenzie, glad that she and John finally would be without ever-present eyes and ears, but also grateful for all the hours of entertainment McKenzie had brought with his presence and DVDs.

"I will miss our Pictionary games," she told him.

"Aye, me too Luv," McKenzie replied with a grin and a wink.

Beside her, John shifted subtly, and she glanced at him to see that his arms were now crossed and he was faintly frowning at McKenzie. The Scotsman was moving away though, out into the Infirmary towards where the fresh faced new marine stood beside a rather upset young Flamian man.

Carson appeared into the organised mess of people, pulling off some surgical gloves and he had the hurried air that told her that he had been drafted in to help with the new causalities coming in.

"Looks like Carson's day isn't improving," John said quietly and she nodded, glancing up at John, but he was watching Carson approaching.

Carson reached them, his voice slightly breathless as he stopped in their small circle, having taken McKenzie's place opposite her.

"We've got several severely injured coming in, Jennifer's taken them into surgery already. I'm going to help her out," he reported. "We're going to need space, and since both your latest DNA screenings this morning came back entirely human again, I'm happy to release you both early."

Surprised and relieved, Teyla smiled at him as beside her John uncrossed his arms.

"Really?" John asked eagerly.

Carson smiled. "Aye, but you'll both need to come in every morning for a few more days for your blood tests and monitoring. Other than that, you're free to go."

"Yes," John said gleefully and she looked up at him to share a happy smile.

"_But,_" Carson stressed. "You are both to stay off duty till the end of the week. I mean it, John," he said pointedly. "No sneaking to the Gate room to see what's happening. You're both to remain off duty. Ye hear me?"

Teyla nodded, as beside her John did the same. On any other day, she knew that Carson's insistence would be needed, and possibly highly unsuccessful, in keeping John from returning to his duties early, but she hoped that, like her, John might appreciate the free time until the end of the week.

"Good," Carson replied, though he still seemed slightly suspicious of John's agreement. "Now, I need that isolation room cleared in the next half hour, if you will," he added with an understanding smile.

Turning round with anticipation, Teyla headed into the isolation room. She was glad that they would be set free early, but especially so that the room could be used for the properly sick and in need. She and John had been themselves long before now and she felt very grateful at their early release.

"I'll help you move your stuff," Ronon volunteered from behind her.

She looked back over her shoulder with a smile as she reached down to retrieve her bags that she had kept stored under her bed. As she put them on her bed, Ronon set about gathering up her stray cushions and her blanket that was draped over the back of a chair. Torren's crib from her room still stood next to her bed, and all the books and DVDs that had been loaned to her and John would have to be returned. There were her candles, her own bed sheets, her toiletries back in the bathroom, as well as her exercise mat. There was quite a lot to return to her quarters. She had not realised how settled she had become in here.

Her eyes slid past Ronon to where John had his own empty bags sat on his bed, into which he was dropping two handfuls of shirts. He glanced up as he pressed them down into the bag. His eyes were bright, clearly happy to be allowed free, but his expression shifted further, his eyes sparkling. In those darkened eyes across the room, she thought she saw the same passing thoughts - that he was recollecting their passionate kiss and was aware of how dramatically things had altered between them.

Feeling a faint blush to her cheeks, she looked down to put her own clothes into her bag, only to look back up at him. He glanced back at her from his packing, the same small sparkling smile lighting his face.

"You both got real settled in here," Ronon muttered as he put her heavy candlesticks onto the central table and reached down to the full shelf beneath to pull out the books and other entertainment.

Teyla looked away from Ronon's blocking presence, and focused on her packing, the busy sounds of the Infirmary only hurrying her further. However, she knew that there was far more driving her hurried packing. She was free to walk the city again, to stand out in the fresh air, look up to the sun, to visit her people, to eat in the Mess Hall, and more importantly she was free to be alone with John. After all, they had yet to say a word to each other about what had happened, had said nothing except his comment that they had ignored the 'blue elephant' in the room. Well, the elephant had been pushed from the room, but it seemed so were they, out of the isolation room that had been their mutual home these past weeks. She did not regret that though for she eagerly looked forward to her escape, ready to step out into the new shape of her life.

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Rodney had appeared halfway through the packing, having survived unharmed from his stint with Major Lorne's evac mission, and apparently eager to help with the move out of the isolation room.

They had, by some sort of silent mutual agreement decided to move Teyla's things first. Ronon had picked up Torren's crib by himself, Rodney had taken all the cushions, so John had picked up two heavy bags filled with Teyla's things that had found their way into the isolation room. He had stored his own things temporarily in Carson's lab to return for them once Teyla was moved back into her quarters properly.

Ronon led the way out of the Infirmary and out into the corridors of Atlantis. John felt a sweeping feeling of relief and happiness to be out and free again. That he was carrying Teyla's things, which were lingering a scent of Athosian incense around him, and walking beside her only made him feel all the better. Rodney was pattering on about a trip and Ronon were shaking his head with amusement as he jabbed the transporter doors open.

"Hiking?" John asked Rodney, sure he must have misheard the guy. He held back to allow Teyla in before him, and then stepped in last in time to see Rodney's protesting look.

"I can hike," Rodney objected a split second before the transporter flooded with light and faded on the last sound of 'hike'.

John triggered the doors open and paused to let Teyla out first as he looked doubtfully over his shoulder at Rodney. "Since when?"

Teyla's colourful cushions crushed all together within Rodney's arms were threatening to break free as Rodney stomped after him out of the transporter and into the corridor.

"I hike all the time on missions," Rodney defended himself.

Teyla was ahead of the group now and she looked back over her shoulder with a bemused smile, meeting John's eyes. She shook her head as she looked away. When her eyes met his, they seemed brighter and more sparkling than normal. He swore the air felt warmer and more alive around him, buzzing between him and Teyla.

The attraction he felt for her felt fully unbound, and it had been that kiss that had done it. God, he couldn't remember having lost his head so fully into a simple kiss before, just lost his total sense of time and space. He hadn't expected there to be such intense and sudden chemistry between them like that.

They had always gotten on well, from their very first meeting their friendship had begun. When she had started in the team, all those years ago, he had barely had to teach her anything about how to behave in a military situation, how to behave in a team. She had just known from her own skills and experience, and she seemed to understand him clearly in silence, if not in words. True, that had often been rather uncomfortable for him, that she had read into him what he had really been feeling. When they had lost the original Carson, she had not allowed him to hide away in grief. She had always seemed able to read him. However, he felt he had been pretty successful in hiding his lustful thoughts and far more than affectionate feelings that had been growing stronger for her these past years. He had a suspicion that their embrace during their kiss had revealed otherwise. He hadn't exactly been subtle, but neither had she with her amazing kiss.

Feeling a little warm and aware that he was watching her butt ahead of him, he looked back at Rodney, who was struggling with the cushions just behind him.

Ronon had grunted at Rodney's point about hiking on missions.

"You complain every time we have to walk even five minutes from a Jumper to a settlement," John pointed out. "All the way there _and_ all the way back."

A green and yellow designed cushion was breaking free from the rest, slipping from the large crush of cushions within Rodney's arms. Rodney tried to press the wayward cushion back up with the rest with his knee, but it wasn't working. Behind him, Ronon strode carrying an entire wooden crib by himself without appearing to feel its weight.

"Only because," Rodney replied, pausing to struggle with the slipping cushion again. "I only 'mention' the distance we hike because you refuse to park any closer. I think you do it on purpose."

The cushion made a break for the floor, but John reached back to catch it, slinging it up under one of his arms and he continued on, following Teyla's smile and curvaceous hips. He felt he was justified in that description now, since she had pressed those hips right up against to his. He cleared his throat and look back round at Rodney.

"Yes, Rodney, I do it to annoy you, nothing to do with military strategy or anything," he replied sarcastically. Ronon chuckled.

"On which planet is this hiking trip, Rodney?" Teyla asked more conversationally.

"On that planet with all the flowers up the mountainsides," Rodney replied with more eagerness.

"And how did you end up going on this trip?" John asked. They had reached Teyla's quarters. She waved her hand over the door sensor, the doors parted, and she led the way inside.

"It's an uninhabited world, never touched by the Wraith that we can tell, so it should be perfectly safe. The botany department are heading there to take samples and they opened up a number of spaces for anyone else to join them," Rodney explained as he headed to Teyla's bed and released the large collection of cushions in one go to scatter down over her bedspread. Rodney let out a sigh as if carrying the cushions had been a lot of work.

"So, you're going hiking to pick flowers?" John summarised suspicious for sure now as he set Teyla's bags down more carefully by her cabinets.

"Up mountainsides," Ronon added as he set Torren's crib back in its original place.

"It's more hilly really," Rodney replied weakly.

All of them turned to him, now all free of their bags, cushions or cribs. John watched Rodney, knowing there had to be more to this story. A theory occurred to him.

"Keller going on this trip by any chance?" John asked. Across the room, Teyla sent a knowing smile his way, as most people now knew about the relationship between Rodney and the Doctor.

"She might be, I'm not really sure," Rodney replied looking away, clearly trying, unsuccessfully, to appear nonchalant.

"Right," John replied doubtfully.

He had seen the Rodney/Keller thing coming long before any one else, but then he had had insider information. He had known that in another future, Rodney and Keller had ended up together, but he had still been honestly surprised to see the same happening between his own versions of those two. But, then, you didn't always see things coming. He glanced at Teyla, where she had begun to tidy the cushions Rodney had set down.

Ronon strode past John and Rodney, no longer joining in the teasing at Rodney's discomfort in admitting he wanted to go flower-picking with his new girlfriend.

"Come on, McKay, let's help Sheppard get his stuff," Ronon said as he led the way out of Teyla's quarters.

At which point John realised that he would have to leave with them and Teyla would remain behind to unpack. He hadn't known what to expect, but he realised he hadn't expected to be parted from her so soon. The guys would help him carry his things back to his room and only then maybe he could get a chance to come back to see Teyla alone. That was if she wanted him to. She probably wanted to settle back into her quarters, maybe have some proper alone time again.

Rodney turned and followed Ronon out, muttering something about there being no more cushions, but John looked away to Teyla as he followed. She looked round at them leaving.

"Thank you for helping me carrying my things," she said to them with her usual pretty smile.

"Sure," Ronon replied as if it was an obvious thing to have helped out, which it was for their team.

"Nothing else you left behind?" John checked.

"No, I have everything," she replied as she looked round at her bags, and then back up to him.

"See you in the Mess later?" Ronon asked her as he turned away in the doorway.

John lifted his wrist to check the time. It was only just gone two in the afternoon. Dinner wouldn't be for another four hours.

"It's nice to see you, you know, out of isolation," Rodney told her with his usual smooth way. John wondered how Keller put up with him.

"Thank you, Rodney," Teyla replied with a smile.

John walked across the rest of the room, reaching the doorway as Rodney vacated it, and he looked back at Teyla. "I'll see you later?" He made the statement just enough of a question.

"Of course," she replied and he saw the extra warmth in her eyes. He would have preferred to have stayed here with her, perhaps helped her unpack, and then they would have been able to maybe talk, maybe…

"Come on, Sheppard," Ronon called out from the corridor outside.

John managed not to roll his eyes or resent his good friends who were only trying to help him move back into his home.

He stepped out of her quarters and smiled back at her.

"I'll see you later," he confirmed and winked at her before he turned away, the soft enticing smell of Athosian incense lingering around him as he headed after Ronon and Rodney.

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TBC


	28. Walk

**Note:** It has been a few weeks since the last update and one contributing factor to that has been the absence of a close fandom friend – Camy aka Jeyla4ever. She maintains several Livejournal sites, most notably the wonderful John/Teyla LJ site called Beya. Camy is a friend to many of us in this fandom, especially in the JT area, providing encouragement and support to many of us who express their creativity through fanfic or fanart. Rarely a single day ever passes in which she is not in contact with one of us come hell or high water. However, over three weeks have now passed without anyone hearing anything from her. We can only hope that something far less than our worse fears has happened. If anyone knows Camy and knows any way to contact her outside of her usual email, pleased drop me a line or any of us at Beya.

So this chapter is dedicated to Camy – wherever you are, we all hope you are okay. You will love this one, Hun ;)

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Infection

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Walk

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It was nice enough being back in his quarters, having the space and solitude again, though admittedly Ronon and Rodney stood in the centre of the room kind of lessened that last part.

"You wanna go spar?" Ronon asked immediately after he set John's bag and laptop down on the desk. Rodney had managed not to find anything to carry. John had had less stuff in the isolation room than Teyla had. Looking around at his things, he noticed how lacking in colour his room was compared to the colourful patterned fabrics of Teyla's things.

Setting his two bags down, John turned to his two friends. He was glad to be out of the isolation room, happy to be free and so grateful to them for all the hours they had spent sitting with him and Teyla in the isolation room. Without them, and the others who had so regularly dropped by to help entertain him and Teyla, John knew that the restriction of the isolation room would have really gotten to him. Especially during those early days when he had had little on his mind except the closeness of the four walls, the urge to sit beside Teyla all day long, and to eat twice his body weight. His friends had been there, even Rodney. However, right now, John didn't really want them around. He felt faintly guilty about that, but then the replay of his kiss with Teyla distracted him well away from such thoughts. He would see them later in the Mess anyway.

"Shouldn't you be staying off that knee?" John pointed out to Ronon, knowing that the man's former knee injury, along with the wound to his side, had slowed him considerably.

"That was weeks ago," Ronon replied dismissively.

"Yeah, guess it was," John agreed as he glanced round his room again. It didn't really feel that long to him now, since it had only been a week and a bit since he had really begun to feel himself again. For these two it had been three long weeks.

"I don't think I'm quite up to sparring with you yet," John admitted as he walked over to his desk and pulled open the bag Ronon had set down. "I promised Carson I'd try to take it easy for the next couple of days." It was a good enough excuse.

"You gotta get back to your training," Ronon argued, though his tone conceded John had a point, though the big guy wouldn't admit there was ever a time when you couldn't train.

"I will, I will," John agreed as he pulled out several books and a pile of crumpled clothes from the bag. "You can beat me up next week."

Ronon seemed happy with that. "What you wanna do, then?" He asked, seeming bored.

John considered his response as he set the books down and sniffed at the crumpled shirts. There had been a laundry service in the Infirmary, but though relatively clean, everything smelt of the antiseptic scent of the Infirmary. He hadn't really noticed that until now. Maybe it was because Teyla's Athosian candles had lessened it in the isolation room. He dropped the shirts back down onto the bag and turned to Ronon and Rodney.

"Actually, guys, I could kind of do with some time, you know, alone for a bit. Get back to being…home," he added weakly. He felt bad at turning away their offer of more distraction and entertainment.

"Good. I've got several research projects I need to check in on," Rodney replied immediately, seeming eager to leave anyway.

"Before your big flower picking adventure?" John couldn't help but ask.

Rodney pulled at face back at him. "I'm not going to pick flowers," he protested again. On the way back up from the Infirmary with John's things, Rodney had made the mistake of asking what he should take with him on his hiking trip. A trowel, window box, and an apron had been among the less helpful replies John and Ronon had come up with.

"I've got my Flamian report to write," Ronon added. John looked up at him shocked.

"You're going to write a report?" He asked in disbelief.

"I led two teams, so Woolsey needs me to supply something," Ronon replied with only a hint of defensiveness.

"I spend a few weeks in the Infirmary and Rodney starts going hiking to pick flowers…"

"For the _last_ time, I'm _not_ going to pick flowers," Rodney interrupted angrily. Ronon grinned at him.

"…and you've starting writing reports for Woolsey!" John continued. "What's happened to you guys?"

Ronon turned away towards the door, pushing at Rodney's shoulder as he did.

"This is from the man who turned into a bug," Rodney replied as he initially resisted Ronon's push to leave. "Twice. Will you stop shoving me," he muttered at Ronon as he gave in and turned away to leave, swatting away Ronon's hand as he did.

"It's only one report," Ronon said to John over his shoulder.

"That's how they all start, next week you'll be filling out GMS8 forms for Woolsey," John teased.

Ronon gave him a good glare as he and Rodney headed out of the door. "Enjoy your afternoon nap," Ronon replied before he turned and disappeared out of view, clearly pleased with getting in the last word.

Rodney however remained stood out in the corridor looking back in at John. "You do get that I'm really not going to pick flow-." The doors slid shut on the rest of his sentence and John grinned at the closed doors.

Glorious silence and empty space surrounded John. He took a breath and sighed. It was nice to be home. There were no doctors or guards running around just outside, no constant background bleeping or quiet conversations. He had been looking forward to gaining privacy and space again upon leaving the isolation room, but now he had those things, the silence felt odd.

It was probably because Teyla wasn't around.

It had only been fifteen minutes since he had left her in her quarters. He couldn't really go visit her already. She would be unpacking and settling back into her space.

He didn't want to seem too needy.

No, he would settle back home in his quarters himself. Then, maybe after an hour or so, he could maybe drop by her place and see how she was doing.

It took all of five minutes to dump all his Infirmary smelling clothes into the laundry bin, dump his toiletry bag back on the side in his bathroom, and set his own DVDs back on their shelf. Everything done already, he frowned around at the room, which felt so much larger compared to living in the isolation room. He filled a few more minutes by going back into the bathroom and emptying the toiletry bag, setting the body wash back in the shower, and putting his shaving cream and razor back in their customary place by the sink. Which only reminded him a little too much of earlier. Of kissing Teyla.

He wanted another one of those kisses. A hell of a lot more of them.

He itched to go back to her quarters to see her. Just to talk, check things were okay with her; that she wasn't reconsidering that kiss. That she might be missing him as he was missing her already.

He headed back out of the bathroom and stood in the centre of his quarters, looking for something to distract him from being so girly and needy.

Someone had kept his quarters tidy for him by the looks of things. There wasn't any dust anywhere. John suspected it had been Carson when he had dropped in occasionally to pick things up for John. John couldn't imagine Rodney or Ronon dusting. Mentally, John added that added thoughtfulness to the list of things he owed Carson – right under saving his friends' lives repeatedly, saving John's life repeatedly, turning John back into a human from a bug, twice, and of course at having come back from the dead in clone form. He would take Carson fishing for sure as soon as the two of them had a free day together, even if the others didn't want to come along.

He checked his watch again. Twenty-five minutes now since he had left Teyla in her quarters.

He wandered around his bed idly, considering sitting and reading, but he had done plenty of that these past weeks.

His golf clubs sat to one side. He could go hit a bucket of balls maybe.

Getting out in the fresh air would be good. He had hated his forced idleness these past weeks, even with a twice-daily workout, it wasn't the same as running out along the piers in the morning air. He paced over to a window and looked out at the afternoon sunshine. It was nice to have a view again. He could go for a walk…maybe Teyla would like that too. She had repeatedly said how much she had missed simply walking outside with Torren these past weeks. Yes, he could go out for a walk and hang by Teyla's to see if she wanted to join him.

Pleased with the plan, he headed across the room towards the door. An invitation for a walk sounded good. It wasn't like he was asking her to go pick flowers with him.

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It felt strange to be in her quarters again. Wonderful, yet strange compared to the smaller isolation room that had been her home these past weeks.

Sunlight shone happily in through her large window, which had new glass in place following her impromptu escape down the side of the tower. She wandered over to the new window, grateful for the repair, and for whoever it was who had tidied up her quarters following that previous escape. As she recalled, she had left her room scattered with clothing and glass. As well as with an unconscious Lorne, and half the city's military force locked outside her door.

She stood right up close to the glass and looked down the side of the tower as best she could. It looked frighteningly high and dangerous, but she had not felt any of that fear before. She had seen the outside of the tower as a simple and effective means of escaping those who sought to cage her.

She turned from the sunlight and looked back across the expanse of her quarters. They seemed so large and empty compared to the isolation room. And so quiet.

She closed her eyes and listened to the silence of her home. Even late at night in the isolation room, there had been movement and whispered voices audible from the Infirmary. Now, however, there was complete silence, and she sighed in delight. She was free, and she was well again.

So much had happened since the last time she had slept in her own bed. Not only had she survived the infected Hive ship's emergency crash landing into the ocean, then her own infection with the same Wraith affliction that had killed an entire Hive of Wraith. She had been isolation behind thick plastic, hovering on the edge of death, only to be saved through the Retrovirus, but that had turned her into a bug creature. In that form, she had hurt many, though fortunately none critically, and she then had infected John as well, transforming him into a creature like herself. In doing so, she had allowed him to help save her in the end, but it had also changed so much between her and John.

She opened her eyes as the memory of his kiss returned with full force.

Yes, so much had occurred since she had last slept in her own bed.

Walking back here to her quarters with her team, she had looked over her shoulder at John carrying her things, to see that his gaze upon her had been bright and appreciative. It thrilled her to recall his darkened smiling expression before he had turned his attention back to teasing Rodney. He had never looked at her quite that way before, and she was eager to see him repeat it, and again experience the flush of anticipation and gentle arousal it had provoked in her.

Such thoughts thrilled her, warmed her through, but she tried to check herself. She and John had not had a chance to talk since their kiss. Part of her did not wish to, only wishing to linger in the simple attraction and promise of more kisses that his dark sparking eyes had represented. For so long she had wanted that first kiss and finally now it had occurred; he had expressed interest, and she had to hope that interest extended beyond a few more kisses. She knew John was not the type of man to move from woman to woman only wishing brief affairs, especially with a friend, but at the same time, she knew that he shied from permanent long term relationships.

She wandered away from the window, back towards her main low table. Her quarters had been kept clean and tidy, possibly by Jennifer, but she knew Kanaan had been here last week. They had thought it good timing for him to move out any of his things while she was in the isolation room. Looking around now, she noted the absence of small items that had not stood out to her before, but now seemed obvious. A small token, that had always stood in Kanaan's tent, had stood overlooking Torren's crib, was now gone, most likely back to Kanaan's own tent. He had usually kept a few spare clothes in a drawer and they were now absent, as was his spare coat that had hung next to hers. These quarters had always felt her own, separate from her shared time with Kanaan, yet now she felt the absence of him. It brought only a touch of sorrow, in that she feared any hurt she had brought upon him, and the regret the end of any relationship brought. However, that his presence was so clearly absent now felt right and appropriate, especially considering what had changed with her and John. For a fleeting moment, she imagined John living here with her and Torren, his clothes hanging beside hers, his laptop, full of music and work, on her table, his boots beside hers.

She shook her head at the image, one that was so heartfelt, yet perhaps dangerous. She did not wish simply to replace one man with another; John meant too much to her, and Kanaan had been important to her. If John wished a proper relationship with her, then there would be obstacles, most notably his own difficulty with 'feelings' and sharing his private world with another. She did not require him to reveal everything of himself, but she longed to be able to spend private time with him, and to know him deeper than she did now. She hoped that they would be able to talk soon, to share enough to discover whether they could move forward into a relationship. For his kiss…it had been wonderful. She yearned for more, but attempted to calm her thoughts, and the surprisingly lustful desires that rose in response.

She smiled as she considered how she and John had reversed the usual manner of relationships. They had first known each other at their worst and best, surviving difficult circumstances together over the years, only to then spontaneously sleep together due to the Retrovirus, to only afterwards then share their first kiss, and now finally they would actually discuss entering into a relationship. She hoped.

Sighing at her circling thoughts, she considered how best to spend the next few hours, enjoying her freedom, and not obsessing repeatedly about John.

The door chimes rang out, and she turned eagerly towards the closed doors, her heart beating faster. She knew it was him, despite the chances that could be any one of her friends simply visiting her to celebrate her release, she knew it would be him. Or was it simply hope?

She made herself take a calming breath as she walked at a normal pace across the room to the door. Amused at her own reaction of anticipation, she waved her hand over the repaired controls to the doors, and they slid open to reveal John on the other side. Delight teased throughout her body as she smiled up at him.

"Hello, John," she greeted him, looking up into his sparkling eyes, his own smile brighter than she normally saw. She stepped back, inviting him in without words, and tried to control her rather excitable response to his presence. He had waited far less than hour to visit her, and that thrilled her. "Are you all settled back into your quarters?"

"All settled back in. It's weird having so much space again," he replied and she nodded in agreement, as the doors slid shut behind him. Suddenly his presence filled the space. She licked her suddenly dry lips as she moved away further into her room before she embarrassed herself by throwing her arms around his shoulders as if she really were the in love teenager she felt.

"I know, and no sounds of the Infirmary. It is nice to be out of there," she added.

"Everything back in place here?" He asked as he stopped in the middle of the main room, looking round with interest.

She smiled at that. "Yes, the last time you were in here, Lorne was unconscious on the floor and we left through the broken window." He grinned at her as she gestured to where Lorne had lain and then over towards the repaired window.

"Poor Lorne," John said, pulling on the threads of guilt she still felt regarding her former treatment of the Major and that John regularly teased them both about.

"Was there something that you wanted?" She replied, lifting her tone to sound indifferent, but also to tease him that she knew that his presence here had little to do with remembering how she had injured Major Lorne. Feeling confident enough to tease him in this regard felt amazingly freeing. His lifted eyebrow and the faintest pink over his cheekbones only fired her heady thrilled feelings further.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to join me on a walk out along the west pier," he replied, sounding indifferent now, teasing in turn. "But, now…"

She smiled at the playfulness. "A walk sounds wonderful," she replied honestly. She had so missed the fresh air and sea breeze.

"We'll have to take the transporter and stairs though," John added, as he moved closer "Not the window this time."

She glanced over at the window as he took another step closer to her, bringing him right up into her personal space. She smiled as she looked up at him, tilting her head back further to look up at him so close. His eyes were darker now and his gaze lifted from her lips to her eyes as he smiled back down at her.

"That sounds very good to me," she managed to reply though her thoughts were already drifting away from her and only the prospect of sharing another kiss with him filled her mind. On reflection, she considered that perhaps her comment had referred more to the offer of another kiss than the means by which they would start their walk.

John certainly needed no further invitation, for he leant closer, his chin dipping as she rose up eagerly towards his descending lips. She reached up with one hand as their lips touched, setting her fingers to the strong line of his chin and jaw. His lips were as warm and tantalising as she remembered from earlier and, as with last time, she felt her thoughts shut down as his lips parted against hers inviting a deepening. The extra warmth of his hands touched against her arms, sliding slowly around her back as the warm heat of his mouth ghosted across her lips. She drew in the faint taste of him as she slid her lips over the fullness of his lower lip, and pressed deeper into the inviting warmth of his mouth. His tongue met hers in greeting as his hands pressed flat against her back, pulling her closer to him.

As she slid her tongue against his, learning and discovering further the taste and feel of him, her heart hammering in her chest, she trailed her fingertips from the strong line of his jaw, down his throat, over the bump of sinew and his collarbone to the wide warm expanse of his broad chest. He tilted his head, slanting his mouth against hers, and pushed the kiss deeper. She heard her own whimper in response to that, aware that she now had full handfuls of his shirt in her hands as she pressed herself up tighter against his strong body.

His kiss intoxicated her, loosening her mind and her body, leading to the crumbling away of awareness of anything outside of his touch, his tongue against hers and his lips against hers, pressing, massaging, tasting, and sucking. It was a constant flowing dance of sensation that filled her senses to almost breaking point, and, as before in the Infirmary Lab's bathroom, they lost themselves into the kiss. However, now there would be no disturbance, no people moving around too close, no threat of guards or a doctor interrupting them. They were entirely alone…finally.

She was aware of that new freedom on some level, and suspected it informed the relaxed way that he slid his hands over her back, one dipping under the lower hem of her top to slide across the skin of her lower back. The heat of his hand burned excitedly against her skin, sending thrills through her body. She needed more skin contact with him, and slid her hands under the collar of his shirt, across his shoulders and upper back. Bunched muscles under her touch shifted as his arms encircled her further, holding them closer, one of his hands still under her top, caressing low across her back.

His mouth parted from hers, nuzzling across her cheek to dip down her throat. Her eyes closed and her head leant aside, supported in his strong hand, she lost herself into his nuzzling kiss down her throat. She was on the very edge of losing herself to this, of stripping away thought…and clothing…touching, needing. Flashing memories of shared passion with him under the water tank filled her thoughts. She reached further under his shirt with one hand, sliding down his upper back as far as she could reach, feeling the difference of human skin as compared to the textured scales she recalled from before. She wanted to feel that warm male skin against hers, desperately so. For so long she had wanted this…

She tightened her hands against his skin, overwhelmed with delight and long anticipated desire, but also burning love so intense in that moment that it broke through much of the spell in which she had been adrift. She tilted her head back up against his, sighing out breathily as she slid her arms around the height of his shoulders holding them close. John nuzzled into her throat, his arms wrapping around her in return, enclosing them in a tight embrace. There were no more kisses, just arms around each other and the drawing in of each other, yet lingering on the border of passion.

His breath was a long warm rush against the side of the neck and it tingled against her skin causing a ripple through her. She felt his smile against her throat as he felt her shiver, and his hands flexed ever so slightly against her.

"You still want to go on that walk?" He asked against her neck. His tone suggested the question was honestly meant, but also that he, like her, would prefer another way of spending their time together. She smiled at the level of humour in his voice as she opened her eyes and shifted against him, pulling her hands back from around his neck to cup his jaw in her hands. He lifted up from her throat to look down at her. His eyes looked slightly glazed, but sharp enough with humour and perhaps the edges of controlled disappointment.

She cupped his jaw fully, enjoying the strong edges comfortably fitting in each hand, his full attention on her, unwavering and full of potential. She stroked her thumbs against his checks, allowing her desire to build along with her affection at being able to touch him so openly.

She remembered clearly their lack of control during their time under the water tank, the freedom in releasing oneself totally to an experience, to the basic mating needs to take and give, enjoy and taste. She had wondered before if she should live her life more open to her deeper feelings, to be more like her bug-like self, but stood with him now, his hands holding her upright as much as she held his jaw in her hands, she knew that a middle ground would be far more sensible and desirable. She desired John, more fully than she had realised before today, but it was not a complete animal lust as her bug-self had felt, there was love here as well. She wanted to enjoy pleasure _with_ him, not just by his hands.

Her mind focused and very conscious of her actions, she leant forward and pressed her lips softly to his. The intoxicating spell still lingered, but she kept her senses focused, wanting to consciously feel every tiny detail in kissing him. He met her kiss equally, but there was an element of passiveness to it, for he was waiting for her response, her decision for them to leave to enjoy a walk out in the sea air. She pulled from the kiss, smiled softly at him and pressed in another light kiss to his warm lips. It was the most wonderful experience to kiss John.

"I will walk anywhere with you, John," she told him softly, as she stroked his cheeks again with the pads of her thumbs.

She saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes, which she felt slightly herself at her honest confession, but it was important for her – to move forward honestly. However, she also saw that he understood her words, that he felt the depth of them.

He broke eye contact for a moment before returning it, and his hands slid together at her back allowing slightly more space between their bodies, not that he actually pulled back from her. She held still, now the one waiting for his response, but though she felt an element of concern, she was happy at the honesty of the moment. She slid her hands from his jaw down to rest on his upper chest, fingering the collar of his shirt slightly, his skin a glowing warmth through it. She watched him take a breath, which pressed them closer together within the circle of his arms.

"I think we've spent enough time out on the piers," he replied with a soft deep voice.

Her pleasure at his response was mixed with the undercurrents of his response – not just a reference to the obvious invitation for a walk, and their time running together as their bug-selves, but also possibly to the nature of their distance from each other, from what could be between them. She was a little surprised at his almost poetic response, and the possible suggestion that it meant that he had wanted this for some time as well, but then he cut through the profound moment with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, bringing humour in through the deeper feelings, softening and easing it for them both. She laughed lightly at the display of his humour, enjoying not just the openness he showed about the changing situation between them, but that his humour brought a beautiful ease to the situation.

She leant closer to him, allowing the warmth of his body to sink into hers and enjoying the rumble of his own chuckle through his chest. She slipped her fingers into the open space of his shirt collar to slide her fingers down through the visible patch of chest hair to his warm skin beneath. She had wanted to do that for so long, ever since she had first seen him wear an open collared shirt so many years ago. As she pressed her fingertips to his chest, she felt the faint expansion of his chest as he breathed in, and then he was leaning down to her, his nose brushing against her cheek. She closed her eyes at the soft teasing brush of lips against her skin and another long in breath that implied he drew in her scent. She smiled as she leant against him and he pressed a small kiss to her cheek before pulling back, and she looked up at him happily.

He held her gaze for several long minutes, and then he very purposefully dropped his gaze to her lips. She in turn slid her gaze to his, and he leant down to begin another kiss. As their mouths began another dance, this time it was calmer but no less passionate. His hands, back under her top's lower hem, now both slid up her back together, pulling her top up with the long smooth caressing stroke. It was the opening move of their new dance and she pulled her hands from his neck to lift her arms up over her head for him. He broke the kiss to pull her top up over her, but once it was freed from her hands and thrown aside, their mouths met again. She slid her hands into his hair, sliding her fingers through the locks to his scalp, massaging as his hands slid back down her now entirely bare back. She felt him register that as his hands paused around her middle where a bra strap would normally have been found, except she had worn a top with support enough inside it that she had been naked beneath it. His kiss shifted deeper with that revelation, his hands sliding across her back, caressing, feeling, and exploring.

She leant right in against him as they kissed long deep kisses, passionate, but not with complete abandon as before, this was a conscious shared enjoyment. As she enjoyed his touch across her back and his mouth against hers, she worked on the buttons of his shirt, freeing them downwards. Once they were all open, she pulled back enough to slide her hands across his chest, so appealingly strong and lean with attractive lines of muscle and hair. Then she leant forward against him once more, now between the opened edges of his shirt to press her bared chest to his.

He uttered a growling arousing sound into their kiss as she did so, his hands sliding right around her, holding her tight against him as they both felt her hardened nipples pressed tight against his chest. The kiss deepened, growing a little faster and wetter as his hands caressed round to her ribs, teasing the plumped sides of her breasts where they were pressed to his chest. She pulled from him enough to allow his hands to slide between them, cupping her breasts, and as their kiss ended slowly and enticingly, she kept her eyes closed enjoying the massaging teasing of her nipples. When she parted her eyes enough to look up at John, she saw his gaze directed down at her chest, his breathing clearly faster as he so softly stroked her sensitive skin.

She reached the tiny distance between them to run her hands over his chest in turn, glorying in being able to run her fingers along the appealing lines of muscle across his chest, pushing away the edges of his shirt further as she did to expose more of his skin. She ached to press her mouth to his chest, to taste his skin, to give pleasure, but for now she held back to watch as she pushed his shirt from his shoulders, as his arousing fingers stroking her aching breasts.

As she ran her palms over the height of his shoulders, she reached the point where he had to release her to remove his shirt, but she felt his resistance and saw his smile at his unwillingness to withdraw his touch from her breasts just yet. She smiled in turn, so glad that her body pleased him, but she wished to see more of his in turn. As a compromise, she reached to one of his hands, pulling it from her chest to free one sleeve of his shirt at a time, but he took the hint this time and released her to roll his shoulders and pull away his shirt. The rolling action did the most interesting things to the lines of his chest and stomach, and so she slid her hands over those areas and felt the flexing of his body under her touch.

John muttered a few curses at his shirt, which was resisting quick removal, and as he twisted to focus on pulling his wrist free of a sleeve, she chuckled up at him. He pulled a face at her laughing at him, but she could see he was enjoying himself and she was delighted in his eagerness, which she shared. His hands finally free of clothing, his shirt falling to the floor at their feet, he reached for her again. She slid her hands around his sides, pulling their chests back together again. She chuckled again his murmured sound of enjoyment, but in playful retaliation, he slid one of his hands down between them, sliding straight down her belly, over the front of her trousers, to dip down between her legs, cupping her. She grasped in sudden delight at the erotic playfulness, and at the most arousing of touches, even through the layers of her trousers and underwear. He had made his intention most clear and it thrilled her through her bones. She felt his smile against her lips as he began a new teasing kiss.

There were no more subtleties of intention now, no pretences. They desired one another, he wished to lie with her now, and she wished the same. They had technically already shared a form of lovemaking, but she knew that their 'mating' as their former bug selves did not truly count. Now, it was the two of them fully themselves again, making a conscious and meaningful decision in this physical sharing. That fact alone was almost as arousing for her as his kiss and the pressure of his hand between her legs.

She pressed up further against him, allowing herself to let go that little bit more and communicate to him how much she wanted this. She ran her hands over his back, enjoying the wide expanse of his naked skin, loving the freedom to touch, explore and enjoy him.

Between her thighs, his fingers flexed and rubbed gently, teasing her at how his touch would truly feel against her flesh and not blocked by her clothes. He pressed his fingertips closer, right where they could penetrate if not for material. She broke her lips from his, losing herself in that intimate touch and promise, but his lips lingered against hers, nipping gently. She could hear the shaking quality to her breath as she sighed with pleasure, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he slid his mouth across her cheek to the warmth of her neck. She tilted her head aside, the licking kisses down the side of her throat bursting more arousal through her system.

"John," she uttered breathily, a request as much as an expression of delight.

She tightened her arms around him, her hands cupping his shoulders, feeling the fierce strength of him contained in the bunched muscles. Tilting her head forward, she opened her eyes to look at the tight dark space between them, the shadowed lines of muscle and sinew of his throat and upper chest. As she slid her hands around his shoulders to touch those tempting areas, his breath hot against her ear, the darker shadow of the healing bite wound became apparent.

His hand slid out from between her legs, sliding around to her belly, allowing her to press fully up against him again, as his other hand grasped at her backside assisting that closer fit. The very clear evidence of his heightened arousal was a ridge of pressure against her, frizzling her heart rate higher, and he whispered her name into her ear as he pulled her even tighter to him.

She tilted her head down to watch her fingers slide over the darker patch of skin that outlined her bite. The memory of biting him had been mainly full of regret and shame; however, arousal brought forth a far more primitive reaction. She could not imagine herself ever hurting him that way again, yet as she grazed her fingertips over the tiny shapes of her individual tooth marks, she felt a shudder pass through her.

On impulse she bent the small distance and pressed her lips to the wound she had caused him, which had so altered their relationship. The possessive recollection of marking him with a bite may no longer make as much sensual sense to her, but sliding her lips and then her tongue over the mark was profoundly arousing.

John tensed at the first touch of her mouth to the wound, but clearly not due to concern at a repeat of her bite, for his hands only tightened around her. As she circled her tongue around the circle of the bite and then breathed across the raised wound, John shuddered violently against her. One of his hands rushed up the back of her neck, pulling and leaning down to press his mouth eagerly to hers. She met the lustful kiss with abandon of her own, feeling empowered by his reaction as by her own acceptance of her feelings over her actions in biting him.

An acceptance of sorts had clearly hit John, for his hands were now sliding between their bodies, intent only on breaking open the fastening of her trousers, whilst keeping their kiss going. His tongue penetrating deep into her mouth, his breathing loud and as desperate as her own, as she reached to assist him in freeing her clothes, only to reconsider and she reached for the fasting of his trousers.

They broke their kiss, waistbands loosened, clothing falling from hips. She ran her hands under the fabric of his trousers assisting them free by sliding her hands down and around his hips to his backside. Thick solid muscle and thigh slid under her hands, as his own warm wide palms shed her of her trousers. He gripped her backside and lifted her slightly as he turned slightly and dropped down. She moved towards the floor with him, pressing her body to his, letting his body guide and support hers as she ran her hands around the front of his freed groin to slide her hands over the aching length of his arousal. His mouth met hers ardently again, seeking the mating that she felt equally, which beat through her veins as she stroked him, as they knelt together.

She twisted her legs, freeing her calves and feet from her fallen trousers, whilst keeping as close to him. She gripped one of his hips to steady herself, for he was not assisting her attempt at full nudity, for his hand had snaked its way back up her inner thigh and cupped her once again. She held still at the first touch, her eyes tightly squeezed shut as his fingers pressed against her sensitive aching flesh. She moaned in delight and then gasped as his fingers penetrated deeper, for clearly he was as eager as she was to fill the deep aching within her.

His other hand slid around her back, his arm holding her to him as he pressed her backwards to the thick rug spread across the floor behind her. As she lay back, pulling at his shoulders to keep him with her, she opened her eyes to the most wonderful sight of John bent over her, his eyes glazed in passion and his lips parted around faster aroused breaths.

"We need…" she managed to gasp as he pulled his fingers from her intimate flesh, lying down further over her. He was nodding already though, his attention breaking from her to look down their bodies and she heard the crackle of a packet. He lifted it to his teeth and pulled it open.

She kicked away the last clinging hold of her trousers from around her feet and shifted one leg through the small space under John as he had lifted to secure their protection. Her legs now on either side of him, she lifted her knees around him, and he bent back down over her at the same time as she wrapped her legs around his back.

She reached up and pulled him down over her fully, guiding his mouth to hers by his jaw as she pulled him down over her with her lower legs. He shifted over her briefly, his fingers at her centre once more then to be replaced by the thick head of his manhood. She slid her hands down his body as he slid further up over her, pushing himself slowly into her.

Their mouths parted from their kisses and he settled his weight fully over her, resting his weight on his arms. She met his gaze as he pushed deeper and she reached his hips and backside, pulling him into their joining.

He stretched her deliciously, pushing at the edge of discomfort, but she knew that would not last. She saw him bite his lower lip, dazed pleasure dimming his gaze, and his eyes slid shut for a moment as he settled deeply into place within her. She lifted up to graze her mouth against his jaw, running her hands across his lower back, holding him to her as she adjusted to his presence in her body. There was the faintest hint of growing stubble against her sensitive lips as she teased them against his chin. He dipped his chin, his lips grazing against her, his breath mixing with hers.

"Teyla," he whispered as he captured her lower lip between his and simultaneously pulled his length partly from her. Sensitive aroused tissues allowed his departure, but unlike before in their previous mating under the water tank, he was free to leave her body, to move as he wished. She felt his awareness of that difference as she was, for he paused at his former limit, only to push back inside her. Her moan jumped from her throat without restraint, and as he repeated his long deep thrust, she grasped hold of him, her knees high around him. She was already nearing the peek of desire, her entire body hovering nearly beyond her control.

He pushed back into her, but paused, holding himself still and her at the precipice of orgasm. She clutched hold of him, her fingers digging into his ribs, her body aching with pleasure, but not yet quite at absolute release. She tipped her head back against the rug soft beneath her, arching her breasts up tighter against John's chest as she did.

His breath ghosted hotly against the side of her throat, his tongue sliding against her skin, and then his teeth gently biting the thicker muscle of her neck. She almost bucked under him, her groan proclaiming to him how sensitive that area of her neck was, as was the near breaking point of his kiss and bite. She felt his murmured growl of appreciation, her name on his lips again as he rocked his pelvis against hers, rubbing them together further.

"Yes, John," she heard herself whimper, all control now surrendered.

He pulled from her and pushed in deeply, adding the rock again, lifting her backside up from the rug slightly. She wrapped her lower legs around his middle, then higher up so that her knees bumped against the back of his arms. He thrust again, his hands now under her neck and in her hair. He licked up over the line of her jaw to kiss her cheek and then nipped at her lips. She reached further down his glorious shifting body, reaching for the fullness of his backside, urging him deeper to fill her entirely over and over again. He pulled from her, pushing the full muscular roundness of his backside deeper into her hands. She gripped tighter and squeezed as he stroked back into her. She broke their kiss with a loud panting moan, and his pace abruptly accelerated. She pressed her cheek against his as they moved together, both seeking of each other, lost in the purest instinct of mating, but now purely human and totally succumbing completely to it.

As the crest of blissful release hovered sharply, she clutched tightly to John, holding herself to him, his arms now under her upper back, a hand still tight in her hair. His breath was hot and held his own barely restrained release, as he buried into her, keeping as close as possible with short abrupt thrusts, rocking them together.

Nothing could hold back the spiralling breaking potential anymore and the wave broke suddenly seemingly throughout her entire body. She cried out for sure, throwing her head back, arching up against him, as the ecstasy engulfed her. She abandoned herself entirely to it, John her only island of solid awareness as the sea of pleasure washed her entire awareness.

She was aware of her tightening grip of John, outside and in, and his heavy thrust and the sudden supersensitive pause as he rode her release and then surrendered to his own. He shuddered powerfully with her, his arms locked around her, his brow against her lifted cheek as he groaned out his passion.

His shudders mixed with hers, their arms clamped around each other, fingers buried deep into flesh.

Deep overwhelming warmth infused through her body, relaxing and soothing what pleasure driven tension had held tight. With a heavy sigh of delighted bliss, she relaxed her hold on him, her spine returning fully to the floor under her, her lower legs only remaining raised for they were draped across John's back. Aftershocks shivered through her body as she sighed again, every part of her warm and relaxed, from her toes to her scalp.

With a half groan half moan, John arrived at the same total relaxation, his full body weight pressing over her for a moment before he shifted away. She wrapped her arms back around him to prevent him moving too far, but he only slumped part of his weight to the side, keeping his arms around her and his head resting into the crook of her neck.

She slid her hands over his shoulders and turned into him, keeping their bodies as tightly pressed as she could whilst being so relaxed as such an angle.

His chin lifted from the upper swell of her breast to graze across her cheek and she pressed her lips to his.

It was a slow, rather breathless kiss on both sides, but it was wonderful and perhaps the most intimate and loving kiss she had ever shared.

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TBC


	29. Resolution

**Note:** Thank you to those who replied on the last chapter, not just for the reviews (which are always nice of course) but for the well wishes for Camy/Jeyla4ever. I am glad to report that after a month, we have now heard from her. Things have been very difficult for her, but she is okay. We are greatly relieved and all thinking of her during her difficult time.

Secondly – only one more chapter to go for this fic! It's been a long haul and thank you to those who have stuck with me throughout. It's tough to run a 'normal' life and have time to fit in writing around Real Life stresses, but I have enjoyed writing this fic. I intend, time allowing, that the last part will be up at the end of the week, but I do have the usual busy week and it's my birthday on Sunday (sort of a good thing) so can't guarantee it. I will try. Time then to head onto another fic, and to complete some Works in Progress.

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Infection

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Resolution

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With a faint groan, John finally succumbed to the ache in his right shoulder from being crushed up under him lying on his side, and rolled onto his back, the Athosian rug under his back surprisingly comfortable. Everything felt good; his entire body glowed with warmth and satisfaction.

"Whoa," he uttered, still slightly breathlessly, as he broke open his heavy eyelids to look up at Teyla's ceiling.

Beside him, Teyla chuckled in that same deep sexy way that she had moaned and sighed moments ago. He rolled his head to look at her lying beside him. Her closest thigh rested against his hip and he slid his hand along the enticing length up to her knee and back down again, his eyes following the glorious sight of his hand sliding across her naked skin.

She shifted beside him, lifting and turning onto her side, and he watched enthralled by her moving body, with its enticing dips and swells as she shifted the tiny distance to his side and draped her leg over his, and pressed her belly and breasts up against his side. He snaked his arm around her, sliding his hand down her spine to her backside and he pulled her minutely closer to him. She let out another sexy sigh as she slid her hand across his chest.

"I'll go walking with you again _any_ time," He told her, his voice sleepy around his smile.

She chuckled against his shoulder, her lips grazing his skin as her hand circled around his chest, but she didn't settle down against him, instead she settled up on her elbow. He looked up at her, smiling at her pleasingly relaxed, somewhat dazed expression, a look he suspected he shared. She looked really good, relaxed, naked, and smiling at him. He slid his hand up her back again, to lift from her skin to slide his fingers into her hair, encouraging her mouth down to his for another kiss.

As their lips parted, he sighed out deeply, feeling even better, especially with her fingers still circling across his chest and her thigh slid fully across his hips. He dropped his hand to her thigh, sliding his palm across her skin and around the swell of her hip.

He watched her gaze drop to where her hand slid up his stomach, and he felt a renewed flush of warmth to see the approval in her eyes, thrilled that she was happy touching him. It felt wonderful to feel her hand on his skin, to feel her body against his, but it felt as if his reality had altered so dramatically.

He lay watching her, taking in the reality of her lying here on the floor with him, the two of them naked and touching, her fingers grazing through his chest hair, her lips parted with a soft appealing smile.

He trailed his eyes over her features, enjoying her smile and her dark eyes. Wisps of her hair fell across one of her cheeks as she tilted her head, and he reached up from her thigh to gently brush the strands from where they had caught against her lips.

Her lips were fuller and redder than normal, swollen from his kisses. He slid his fingertips across the full damp swell of her lower lip, and her lips widened into a soft smile. He lifted his eyes from her mouth to her eyes and saw the sparkle in them. He felt a moment of vulnerability then, aware that she could clearly see how enamoured he felt, but then hadn't he just enjoyed the way he could see her pleasure in touching him. He held her eyes and felt her fingers touch against his chin, sliding up to trace along the edge of his lower lip.

Her eyes dropped to where her fingertips followed the lower edge of his lower lip, and his lip felt so acutely sensitive in that moment that he felt a renewed rush of blood in his groin. He stared up at her eyes, seeing how widely dilated her pupils were and he felt a burst of satisfaction to see her pleasure. He wanted to see more of that pleasure again, to feed her, to touch her, kiss her, tease her and give her anything that made her look at him like that forever.

Her fingertips left his lip and her hand drifted back to his chest as she met his gaze again. She smiled widely again, her teeth revealed between her lips, and he felt another surprising burst of arousal. He frowned up at her and she lifted a questioning eyebrow.

"I think that bite you gave me started more than just the Retrovirus," he told her with amusement.

"You mean more than 'walking' with me?" She asked as her fingers slid over his collarbones, close to the healing bite wound. She was still smiling though, which pleased him as he had seen how distraught she had been before about having bitten him. She had kissed the bite wound earlier though, licked it…

He cleared his throat before he answered her. "I think you've given me a biting fetish," he admitted to her, pleased at the bright flush across her cheeks.

"You like the idea of being bitten now?" She asked, and he could see the surprise mixed in there with her pleasure. Her fingers slowed over his left collarbone, very close to the bite wound.

"Only by you," he told her honestly, his voice deeper. She smiled as her fingers slid down off his collarbone to the tiny blue scaly skin that highlighted her teeth marks on him. "Not breaking the skin or anything," he added at her faintly predatory look at the wound.

She grinned down at him. "I shall remember that," she told him and the reference to a future of any sort there gave him another flush of arousal. He realised then that they had had absolutely no conversation about everything that had happened between them. He could hardly believe that their first kiss in the lab's bathroom had been less than two hours ago.

Her expression changed slightly and he suspected her thoughts had followed along the same path as his. He reached up again and brushed her hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear so that he could see all of her face.

"I guess we should maybe talk about all this," he said, stumbling slightly over the words, but it came out more decisive than he had expected.

She pulled a shocked expression. "_You_ want to talk about this?" She was teasing him, but she was right, and he felt a little proud of himself and that he had surprised her.

He had already decided two weeks ago that he wanted a relationship with Teyla, and he had planned a serious, yet subtle, seduction of her during their time in the isolation room. He had wanted to really enjoy their friendship, but also tease at the boundaries of that friendship. It had worked, better than he had ever imagined, and as he looked up at her now, success and possessiveness filled him. However, another thought occurred to him, that perhaps she had seduced him thoroughly long ago.

"Yes, I can talk maturely and…directly about…stuff," he replied and she laughed.

The laugh was sudden and bright, her head rocking back slightly exposing her throat and breasts to his eyes, but it was the bright happy sound of her laughter that pleased him the most. He couldn't help chuckling at himself and the situation, whilst he also ran his fingers down the side of her neck, grazing across one of her lovely breasts before she leant back close to him, limiting how much of her he could see and touch.

"Maybe you should start the talking part," he admitted once their laughter had returned to sparkling eyes. A smidgen of doubt was wriggling to life in him, but he reminded himself that she was pressed up totally against him, both of them naked, so it was unlikely that she was about to tell him to leave. He could be mature about this.

Her eyes dropped to her hand on his chest and he saw her laughter easing away to the more serious subject beneath it. He thought he saw a suggestion of doubt in her expression. Her eyes lifted to his as her fingers teasing at his chest hair, and he knew that she was faintly uncomfortable in what she was about to say. All his attention locked onto her and what her next words might be, and how it may alter the future he wished with her.

"Was this because of what happened between us under the water tank? Or because of my bite…?" Her question trailed away, but he understood her meaning that came across just as strongly from her gaze.

She was always a woman who seemed confident and in control, though as their friendship had deepened he had seen some of the real Teyla beneath her 'Athosian leader' persona that she projected. Now, however, like him, she was exposed and vulnerable, and the hidden deeper layers of her were in view. Just as he actually would like assurance that she wanted him, and only him, for more than the occasional 'walks', she had the same concern. Under her pleasing touch across his skin, she was unsure of his true feelings and intentions.

He tilted his head to look at her more directly, feeling like he was seeing her in an entirely different way – not just the sexy woman, his friend, the Athosian leader, and wonderful mother, but now a normal vulnerable person. A woman, who though strong, still had the same layers of worry, fear, and vulnerability that any other woman would. That reality didn't lessen his feelings for her, it only made it all the more real for him. This wasn't a simple 'walk' and smiles afterwards, she was as emotionally exposed as him. He felt more equal with her then, that they were both in the same boat together. Not for the first time, did it strike him how alike they were.

Her comment and the depth he sensed to the question suggested something else as well – that she too had felt this desire for longer. For years he had felt drawn to her, and felt that it might just be reciprocated, but it was always difficult to tell when you are personally involved. He could still recall in vivid detail meeting her for the first time, and then later walking into the dark caves on Athos, finding her old necklace and securing it around her neck. He wouldn't normally have been so forward with someone, especially not a woman he barely knew, but he had simply acted, returning her old necklace to where it belonged. It had felt right and he had felt that connection so powerfully with her. He would admit that it had informed much of his choices afterwards – wanting to save her and her people as much as Sumner and the others. Then his request and invitation to have her join his team. He had felt the attraction, but had focused on the friendship, but the affection had only grown stronger since.

There had been many reasons and excuses to keep to being friends, from work, duties, time, friendship, Kanaan, and the Retrovirus. Excuses that normally he would have taken as an excuse to run further away from anyone that he could let down and hurt. Who could hurt him. But, over the years in Atlantis, he had discovered a new family who allowed him to be himself, whom he loved for who they were, who protected each other no matter what and would never knowingly leave each other behind. Sometimes that faith had been tested, especially with Teyla, but in the end, he had changed. He wanted things now. He wanted someone to hold in the dark nights, he wanted to express what he felt inside, to risk his heart as well as his life for once. To see an inkling of those same desires in Teyla was all he needed to reveal finally what he felt for her.

He stroked her cheek again, holding the silence for a moment longer, letting her see the seriousness in him, but also the honest feeling. He let himself step out into that uncharted territory of love that he had avoided for so many years, even from long before her and Atlantis. It was a landscape that he had avoided for most of his life.

He tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear when it fell free again. Her hair was as soft as her skin. She was soft, giving, strong, honest, and so stunningly beautiful that she stole his breath. He found it amazing that she doubted that anyone wouldn't love her entirely for every day of her life. But, people were filled with doubts, he knew that more than most. Doubts and fear were well known friends to a soldier and he hated that their world was one in which she had to experience them at all. In one area though, he could be sure that she didn't need to have any doubts.

"What happened under that water tank," he told her quietly "happened _because _of this."

Her expression changed immediately and he suspected that he couldn't have said anything better. She reached up and cupped his hand against her cheek, smiling against his palm, and he thought he saw an extra touch of wetness to her eyes. She closed her eyes and nestled her cheek into his hand.

He smiled up at her, happy to see her smile and her clear relief. He had given her that and he felt truly happy lying here with her, knowing that they were on the same page. Finally.

Her eyes opened again and he slid his hand down to her shoulder, trailing his fingers along the soft wide elegant line of her shoulders. She lifted up a little higher onto her elbow and her breasts came further into view and he watched his fingers slipping slowing down along the upper swell of one, the reality of actually being able to look and touch…

"So, I was correct that you have been flirting intentionally these past weeks?" She asked, her tone back to teasing, but full of warm knowledge now.

John pulled an 'it's possible' expression in response, for his attention was mostly focused on watching her nipple tighten as his fingertips caressed around it.

"And do you normally walk around with a condom in your pocket?" She asked next as her hand slid across his chest to tease across one of his nipples. Her tone had been intended to sound teasingly curious, but John froze, realising that he may be in trouble. He looked up at her face, keeping his hand still against her breast.

He had slipped one of the small packets in his pants' pocket on impulse when he had been trying to make up distractions back in his quarters. He had emptied his toiletry bag and then had crouched down at the small cabinet beneath the Ancient sink to stuff the empty toiletry bag back into the far corner of the cabinet, only to see the small box set near the back. He had barely had use for its contents over the last few years, but he had made sure they were in date, just in case, and on impulse, he had slipped one into his pocket. At the time, he had been pretending to himself that he wasn't going to rush to Teyla's quarters with some weak excuse to see her. He hadn't intended this precise outcome so soon, but he hadn't wanted to be caught out if the opportunity had arrived. Turned out his thought had been justified, but she may not see it that way. Maybe she thought he often had need of a condom in his pocket…

"No, I don't…I just in case you and me…," he tried to explain himself, feeling worried that already he was in trouble.

However, Teyla grinned and shook her head at him as she bent down and pressed her lips to his. He gave up on his excuses as she began the kiss and when she lifted from his lips, he smiled up at her.

"I wasn't being presumptuous," he explained. "I just wanted-"

"As did I," she interrupted him, turning his explanation into a clear declaration that she had wanted this same outcome as he did.

He grinned up at her. "Good," he replied simply, feeling good all over again.

Teyla dropped her smiling attention back to his chest, where she stroked another wide lazy circle, to then finally settle herself down against him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her, and he dipped his chin to her hair. He could get real used to this - her cheek against his chest, her hand sliding soothingly across his upper stomach, back and forth.

"I was surprised you got away from Ronon and Rodney so quickly," Teyla said against his skin.

He smiled in return. "Me too, I was thinking up all kinds of excuses, but Rodney wants to finish up some research projects before his hiking and Ronon's writing a report!"

"A report?" Teyla asked lifting her cheek from his chest a fraction to look up at him.

"I know," John agreed with her shocked expression before she returned her cheek to his skin. His slid his hand to her hair, stroking down to where the tips lay over her shoulder and back.

They lay in silence for a while, through which John lost all sense of time, simply stroking Teyla's hair and skin. She was wonderfully warm and soft. He ran his hand over her hip from her thigh, his palm almost entirely stretching the width of her hip, to cup her backside. She lay comfortably against him, happy for him to touch freely. As he slid his hands over her, gradually the relaxed dozing ease began to transmute into arousing desire again. He ran his hand up her side, from hip down into the dip of her waist, sliding his fingers down briefly to circle her belly button pressed against his side. Then from her waist, up the side of her ribcage. Her arm lifted from her side to allow him to follow up over the moving rise of her ribs up to where her breast began. He trailed fingers away through, up around her shoulder to the back of her neck.

"How long until we meet Rodney and Ronon in the Mess Hall?" She asked against him, her voice sounding very relaxed under his care.

John lifted his left arm only to remember that he had pulled off his watch when it had caught in his shirt. He looked up and around for a clock. Her beside clock was just visible, which drew his attention to her wide comfortable looking bed across the room.

"Two hours yet," he informed her happily. "We could take a short walk after all," he suggested, keeping the amusement out of his voice as best he could.

She lifted up from his shoulder, her controlled surprise obvious. "A walk?"

She was clearly surprised that he would suggest a walk outside now, when they were contented and happy, had hours yet together and that she would have noticed his growing erection against her thigh.

"To the bed," John suggested looking away to the nice large bed of hers.

She chuckled with realisation and he looked back at her trying to appear innocent in his suggestion.

"Mmmm, I am not sure" she replied thoughtfully, looking across the room to her bed and then back down to him, and he paused in pushing up from the rug to sit up with her.

She smiled as she rose up onto her knees away from him, only to swing one knee over him. He instantly reached out to slide his hands around her hips as she knelt high over him, and her hands fell to his chest, pushing him gently back down to the rug.

He laid back willingly, surprised and thrilled as she settled downwards, sitting herself across his hips, his erection nestled against her backside. Arousal poured hot and powerfully through his veins as he looked up at her over him, afternoon sunlight playing over her bared skin. He dragged his gaze up from her parted legs across his lower belly, up her stomach, over her breasts and then up to meet her gaze.

Her smile was full of delight and feminine approval as she ran her hands down his stomach.

"I have another idea," she told him as she leant down over him.

00000  
TBC


	30. Result

**Note:** So Finally this fic is over! I know this last chapter took longer to deliver than expected, but it's been a busy few weeks – and thank you for the Birthday wishes I received – with life and two bank holiday weekends in a row!

This last chapter took some time, not only because of life, but because I both wanted it done and also didn't want this fic to be over. It's been a long hard slog and in many ways I wonder if this will be the last long SGA fic I will write, I'm not sure. I have plenty of smaller fics ideas to write and of course past long fics to now complete, but these long ones are tough. I am deeply grateful to those who have been kind and willing to have stuck with me through it all, waiting patiently and in some cases not so patiently, for me to post up the next chapter. If I had waited to finish this thing entirely first before posting it, I don't think it would have gotten done and I wouldn't have had the support of those of you out there who have consistently kept me going with kind words and pointed nudges to get it completed. Thank you guys, you know who you are :)

Right enough talk – onto the conclusion of this fic! Thank you all for reading – love you all.  
Wedj x

00000000

Infection

Chapter Thirty - Result

0000000

Feeling very good about the world in general, John wandered along the busy hallway beside Teyla, keeping a 'normal' distance between their shoulders. He glanced at her beside him, judging the tiny space between them again, just in case he had wandered too close again. She seemed to sense his glance and her dark eyes slid to meet his. The contained sparkle in her eyes warmed him immediately and he smiled before quickly looking away again. The urge to reach out and take her hand was really strong, but he couldn't give in to it. As far as everyone else in the city was concerned, they were their normal selves, simply making their way to the Mess Hall. Everything normal here.

As they turned a corner, he realised he was watching at her again and looked away to the passing nod of one Rodney's lab technicians. Since he and Teyla had left the main corridor on the floor their quarters both shared, everyone they passed by had noticed them, smiled, nodded, or even stopped to say it was nice to see them out of the Infirmary. John couldn't agree more, but he was feeling a little self-conscious that it might be blatantly obvious that things had changed between him and Teyla. Okay, looking at her constantly wasn't helping – so he should probably stop that. So, after exchanging another nod with a passing marine, he looked at his watch instead. They were twenty-five minutes late for the normal team meet up time in the Mess.

"It will not matter that we are late," Teyla said softly beside him as they reached the stairwell. As they squeezed through the entrance of the stairwell, past those heading out into the corridor, their shoulders were pressed tightly together and John leant slightly further against her as he replied quietly.

"Only we don't have any excuse why we're late," he reminded her. Of course they had plenty of reasons, but none he felt like sharing with the others. Her brief knowing look confirmed she was thinking the same.

She paused at the foot of the stairs for him to fall back into step beside her; a normal everyday thing they always did, but today it felt infused with meaning.

"Colonel, Teyla," A Lieutenant said with a smile as he headed down the steps towards them.

"Lieutenant," John replied automatically.

"Good to see you've both escaped at last," the man replied with a smile.

"You have no idea," John joked as they passed him.

It was nice that everyone was pleased to see that he and Teyla had left the isolation room, but John was feeling on show.

He looked at his watch again, the stairs momentarily empty of anyone with smiles and joking comments for now.

"We would not be late if you had kept your promise," Teyla said quietly, the playful amusement singing through her voice.

He tried to control his grin as he looked at her beside him. "I was trying to help conserve water."

She sent him a doubtful look, but her eyes were bright and full of the memories of their shared shower, despite his promise to allow her to shower alone. She hadn't seemed to mind when he had joined her. In truth, they were lucky they had made it out of her quarters at all. He was looking forward to the next few days off duty…

Boot steps on the metallic steps above them drew him away from smiling knowingly down at her, and he schooled his expression again.

"Colonel. Teyla," Sergeant Mehra greeted them with a surprised but amused expression as she appeared at the landing above them. "Hope you didn't escape through the air vent again," she joked as she headed down towards them.

"Not this time," Teyla replied with a faintly embarrassed edge to her voice.

"Good to hear," Mehra responded, "don't know how you managed to fit in through that vent the first time," she muttered with amusement.

"If Zelenka can manage it…" John replied and Mehra chuckled as she passed them, heading away down the stairs, the polite small teasing small talk over. At least for now.

"You know we're never going to live this down, right?" John remarked as they reached the next landing up. "Turning into bugs and running loose around the city, stunning Lorne and beating everyone else up."

Teyla gave him a pointed glare at his continual teasing about poor Lorne, but her eyes were shining with amusement. The staircase began filling up again as they met those heading down from the Mess Hall level. John held his tongue as they passed them, again exchanging nods and the occasional joking comment, which continued out of the stairwell and down the main corridor towards the Mess. It was quieter here, presumably due to the clear change of shift that had prompted so many in the stairwell from the Mess heading to their duty shifts.

Alone briefly again, he and Teyla fell into step beside one another again.

"I believe we have truly been forgiven for all that we did while we were not ourselves," Teyla said, continuing on fluidly from their previous conversation.

"Except for the good bits though," he replied as he leant slightly closer, brushing the edge of his shoulder against hers. She looked up at him and smiled as she nodded. The beautiful telling faint flush of red to her cheekbones made him smile more. Before this afternoon, their 'encounter' under the water tank had been the source of much of his focus and dreams, but now, after spending the afternoon with her, never having actually made it to her comfortable looking bed, those former memories felt lighter and far less detailed than what he had now shared with her.

In any of his dreams before, he had never truly been able to grasp the experience of touching Teyla, of sharing the most intimate of caresses and sharing of self. Now, though, the reality of Teyla, of knowing how passionate she was, how passionate he was with her, of how soft her skin was to touch, to kiss… He knew the true reality of being with her now, and the still amazing fact that she wanted to be with him in return. This wonderful, beautiful and passionate woman cared for him in return and he was going to do his damnedest to make sure that he didn't let her down. He really didn't want to ruin this. He had so nearly missed his chance to be with her, but fortunately, a bite had changed all of that for them.

He realised he was staring at her again and looked away, glancing around them in the corridor to see that no one else was looking their way. Almost at the entrance to the Mess, the scent of food reached him and he felt his stomach rumble in response. He was starving. He looked at his watch again. It hadn't been that long since lunch, but he had been very busy since then. He controlled his smile as he looked towards the now more appealing promise of the Mess Hall and a full proper meal with his team again.

Teyla's hand touched against his arm, her fingertips placing the slightest pressure against his bare skin by the rolled up cuff of his shirt. He looked round at her instantly and paused in the middle of the corridor with her. It struck him, as her fingers dropped from his arm, that she had rarely touched him, even on his arm, before today. Yet, now, her touch had been natural, and though simple and polite to anyone looking on, that she had touched him at meant so much, warming his skin where her fingers had touched him. He wished again, that he could reach for her hand and hold it in his. It was a simple and normal thing to do as a couple, but things were never simple in Atlantis. He would make sure to hold her hand later. Amused at his wandering thoughts, he focused on her properly and what she was saying to him in a quiet voice.

"If you wish, we can go in separately," she offered.

He blinked at her point, thrown for a moment before he realised she had meant that he had been checking his watch again. Though he was a little uncomfortable at the fact that their friends would likely probably jump to the very correct conclusion as to why he and Teyla would be arriving late, together, that didn't mean he didn't want them to know. He wasn't ashamed or embarrassed really, it was just that he preferred to keep his personal life private and in a way, telling everyone else, somehow reduced the privacy and significance of his and Teyla's time together. And also he knew they would be teased mercilessly by the others, especially Rodney. Maybe that was because John knew that he had some payback coming his way after all the teasing he had done when Rodney and Keller had officially become a couple. He shouldn't have teased so gleefully, he realised now, because McKay would enjoy the chance to get his own back. John could take that, but he didn't really like Teyla being teased if it might embarrass her.

However, she was the one offering him the chance to arrive separately into the Mess Hall, which meant that she was worried for him. He saw a shadow of that doubt, perhaps some worry too, in her eyes.

"I don't mind going in together," he told her with a reassuring smile. "Unless you don't want to…?" He dwindled off the question, wondering if perhaps he had been wrong and she was the one worried about being seen together. He glanced both ways to see that fortunately they remained alone in this part of the corridor.

"No, I am happy to, but I understand that you, as Military Commander…" She began to reply.

"No, its fine, it's our team," he interrupted before she said anymore.

It wasn't the first time he had thought about the possible added complexities about being in a relationship and being the Military Commander in the city, but this was the first time it was actually relevant.

"I'm not saying we should make out in there," he joked to lift the moment and she smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling at the sudden new level of teasing. It was a little bizarre for him that he was actually joking with Teyla about making out together in the Mess Hall; it was a sudden clash of fantasy and reality. Being alone together in her quarters had been intimate and secure, but now they were already dealing with the realities of being a couple and how that would affect things for them.

"If you are sure," she checked, her eyes meeting his directly, far more this afternoon than she ever had before. He could feel her assessing him with that way she had of reading people so clearly. Until today he would have found that scrutiny uncomfortable, but now he just enjoyed that by looking back at her honestly, with certain moments replaying in his thoughts, he watched her see his agreement and that faint flush to her cheekbones returning. He grinned at her, really enjoying being about to fluster her even slightly, which he had rarely been able to do before. He held her gaze a little longer, despite the fact that he could hear some footsteps nearing, then just when he estimated the owner of the steps would arrive around the corner, John winked at her and turned away towards the Mess Hall entrance.

"Come on, I'm hungry," he told her, enjoying that he had likely managed to fluster her again, for she took a second to catch up with him again.

The open doorway ahead of them grew larger and, through it, John could see the usual buzz of activity, despite the fact that he and Teyla were late.

"You would not be so hungry if you had kept your promise," Teyla told him teasingly at his side.

Rising to the bait, he looked at her beside him, though keeping his expression schooled as best he could for others watching. "You usually leave the bathroom door open when you shower?" He asked in return, content his voice was low enough in the louder buzz of the Mess Hall not to be overheard.

She pretended she had not heard him as she led the way to the trays to collect their food, but he had seen the smile on her lips.

Amused with the playful game, but aware that it had to pause for now, he looked out across the large bright room seeking out the rest of the team. Ronon and Rodney were sat at one of the team's usual tables, both still picking at their food, and sat at the end of the table was Carson, his own tray empty. They hadn't noticed yet that he and Teyla had arrived, so John focused his attention on selecting food, something to drink, and again exchanging comments with others pleased to see them released from the Infirmary.

Finally, with full trays, he and Teyla headed towards their friends' table. The feelings of apprehension returned for John as they neared, but it was clear that they had already been spotted.

"Finally, you took your time getting here," Rodney greeted them, looking faintly annoyed.

John didn't respond to the hidden question he felt hovering behind that statement and instead focused on pulling out one of the empty chairs and setting his tray down.

"Nice to see you too, Rodney," he replied sarcastically as he sat down. He dropped his attention to his tray, but he could feel Ronon's eyes on him as if they were burning into him.

"And lovely to see that you have joined us, Carson," Teyla said, nicely steering the conversation with her usual skill. As she sat in the spare chair beside John, her hand touched on Carson's shoulder briefly.

Carson smiled back at her. "I wanted to be here to help celebrate your freedom," he told them. John nodded and smiled himself, though struggling against the discomfort Ronon's gaze and the situation was causing him.

"You are always welcome, Carson," Teyla replied.

"Things quietened down in the Infirmary?" John asked, as he picked up his cutlery.

"Aye, Jennifer has triaged the last that came in. Everyone who needed surgery has been treated and recovering in your former digs," Carson joked.

"How you two survived living in that tiny room for three weeks…," Rodney muttered with feeling as he chewed on the last of his jacket potato.

"We were unconscious for the first week," John pointed out.

"And your regular company helped us through, of course," Teyla added to Rodney and Ronon chuckled beside him.

"Imagine him being kept in there for three weeks!" Carson suggested gesturing at Rodney with his glass of juice.

"What? Why? If Sheppard can do it, I could," Rodney protested as they expected.

"You'd go mad," Ronon replied. John risked his first glance at Ronon to share an amused look, and he was grateful to see no sign of any teasing in the guy's expression.

"I'd do better than you would," Rodney argued with Ronon.

"I wouldn't stay in there," Ronon stated, as if it was a matter of pride. "Stuck in one room…" He pulled a disgusted face.

"It's not as bad as you think," John told him honestly. "I've had to do it a couple of times now," he added.

"Aye, and please, not again," Carson half joked. "No more Retrovirus transformations. For anyone, please."

"I'll keep that in mind," John replied.

"Good," Carson said with a satisfied smile as he sat back in his chair, seeming tired. "Must be good to be out of there?"

"Yes," John agreed, keeping a tight control on his expression other than an honest smile. "Yes, it is."

Beside him, Teyla sighed happily drawing his attention to her. She looked up and around the Mess Hall, her forkful of food momentarily forgotten as she took in the wide bright busy hall.

"Yes, it is wonderful to be able to walk out in the city again," she told them. The room's strong, yet soft light made her happy contented expression all the more beautiful. John smiled at her in agreement.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. She looked at him and her smile deepened slightly before she looked away to the rest of the table and back to her food.

"Have you been out for a walk yet?" Carson asked, knowing how often she had mentioned missing fresh air during their stay in the isolation room.

"No, not yet, perhaps later," she replied and John made a mental note to go on that walk with her.

He looked back to his own food before he continued staring at her any longer.

John looked up at Rodney and Ronon sat opposite him, suspecting to seeing knowing looks, but they were both simply finishing off their food with no hint of a pointed look in sight. John returned his attention to cutting through his jacket potato and wondered if actually the tension he felt was just that – his alone. Maybe the others didn't think there was anything notable about him and Teyla turning up together late to eat. In fact, now he thought about it, he and Teyla used to walk to meals together, especially if they had been in a meeting together. There was a chance that he was seeing things out of proportion and assuming everyone was thinking about him and Teyla. Kind of self-centred now he thought about it, but then he had a right to be – he had a beautiful new girlfriend who he had been in love with for years. He was still technically on sick leave and had days left to just enjoy himself.

Feeling considerably more comfortable with the situation, he began eating quicker, enjoying his food as he listened to Teyla and Carson talk about her plans to visit her people again soon.

"And how about a fishing trip, Carson?" John asked as he finished up his main course and turned on his syrup sponge.

Carson's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"There are several points along the local river to my people's camp on New Athos that are prime fishing locations," Teyla suggested. She had finished her food way ahead of him, and was now sat back, relaxed and sipping the last of her drink.

"We could go hunting as well," Ronon added.

"Isn't fishing hunting?" Rodney asked.

"How about me make it a camping trip? Set up our tents near the river?" John suggested, with the last question directed more towards Teyla.

"There are several good camping areas I can think of along the river," she agreed.

"Maybe Torren could join us?" John added, thinking it would be fun for them all to try and do 'Athosian' type things with little Torren as well as just being with him in Atlantis.

Teyla smiled widely. "I am sure he would enjoy it, though perhaps more so when he is older."

"He'll already be able to catch more than Rodney, that's for sure," Carson muttered.

"I can fish," Rodney protested.

"Don't worry, Rodney, we'll find some flowers for you to pick while we're fishing," John teased.

Rodney fixed him with a grumpy glare, but then the glare dissolved into a worryingly mocking expression. "And on this camping trip, you and Teyla will be sharing a tent presumably?"

It had come completely out of nowhere and John froze for a moment unsure that he had heard Rodney correctly. Ronon let out a deep chuckle, and the knowing look John had been nervous to see earlier now appeared for sure.

"Rodney," Carson admonished, but there was a clear amount of amusement in his voice, and he didn't seem all that surprised by the suggestion.

"What? They turn up an hour late, all relaxed and happy," Rodney replied as he waved his hand towards them.

"Rodney!" John protested.

Rodney looked back at him, his expression challenging, waiting for John to deny it.

"We weren't an hour late," was the only weak correction John could actually make, but it was at least something wrong that Rodney had said.

"Might as well have been," Rodney argued back, looking very triumphant at his tiny win; yes, he definitely remembered the Keller teasing.

"Rodney, we all agreed to stay out of what's not our business," Carson said.

John snapped his attention to Carson. "We all?" he asked. Beside him, Teyla looked as surprised as him as she turned to look at Carson as well.

Carson looked a little sheepish under their mutual attention. "I only meant us few," Carson replied, looking very contrite, as he gestured to Rodney and Ronon.

"And Jennifer," Rodney added helpfully.

"And McKenzie," Ronon put in as well.

"McKenzie?" John asked unsure he understood what was going on here.

"Basically anyone who saw you beat the crap out of Kanaan," Rodney said, supplying the missing information.

John had all but forgotten about that and suddenly he realised how that event might have looked to others on the outside. He shut his mouth, his jaw having been hanging open at these revelations.

"I just shoved him, and I was still a bug then," he replied by way of a weak explanation. He glanced out of the corner of his eye towards Teyla, worrying how she was taking all this.

"Some shove," Ronon muttered. John looked at him across the table to see the enjoyment in the guy's eyes at John's discomfort. John gave him a good glare, but Ronon just grinned back.

"And it's been pretty obvious with all the flirting," Rodney added, also enjoying having an upper hand.

John bit back a comment on the fact that it was amazing that Rodney had noticed at all, considering his usually purely self-focused attention. It was typical that when Rodney noticed something outside of himself that it would be something that John wished he hadn't noticed…or was it that the situation had been _so_ obvious that _even_ Rodney had noticed.

John looked at Teyla beside him and she met his gaze. She looked as surprised as him, but her eyes were shining with amusement too. So much for keeping things as private as possible, but at least that meant that the cat was out of the bag. There was no need to pretend or hide, he guessed, and that fact made him feel abruptly more relaxed about things. However, he was concerned how Teyla might take the fact that it seemed that a large proportion of the City might have been talking about them. She, like him, preferred to keep personal matters personal, but seeing the amusement in her eyes seemed to suggest that she was okay with it. Hell, everyone would find out soon anyway considering how gossip travelled in Atlantis.

He lifted his eyebrows in a silent question to her, knowing that the same questions would be going through her mind. She smiled in reply and her arm moved between them, her hand touching down on the bare skin of his forearm again. He smiled and nodded faintly in response to their silent agreement that they were okay. And he really was okay.

He looked away from her back to the table again, her hand still on his arm, to see their friends all smiling at them. They were all seconds away from saying 'awww' they looked so pleased.

"You're a bunch of girls," John told them plainly, but really their approval pleased him.

"You're the one whose been watching Jane Austin movies," Carson responded, dropping them out of the weighted moment and into gentle teasing again.

"It was just one, and she made me," John explained gesturing at Teyla.

"Why do I get the feeling that's going to be a common excuse from now onwards," Rodney said.

"This from the man who's going hiking to pick flowers," John responded, pleased at the chance to dwell on the subject again.

"Awww, how sweet, Rodney," Carson teased.

"Look, I've had enough of this," Rodney protested as they laughed at him.

As Rodney explained again why his hiking trip was going to be very manly, John was only aware of the fact that Teyla's hand remained on his arm, the gentle warmth sinking through his skin. He pushed his empty tray away from him across the table, allowing him space to fold his arms onto the table surface in front of him, and as he did, he reached across to cover her fingers with his hand. She squeezed his arm affectionately in return and he glanced at her to see her small delighted smile. They couldn't sit with their arm around each other in the Mess Hall like a normal couple, but there were small ways to touch, and he would find them all.

He snuck another look at her to see her grin at Rodney, her face lit up and bright with contented happiness. She was alive and well, free of both the Wraith and the Retrovirus infections, and now free from their mutual confinement in the isolation room. They had several more days with nothing to do but enjoy each other's company. He felt a flush of warmth to think of how they could spend that time. His attention slid to her wide full lips and he caught a flash of her teeth. He snapped his gaze away, feeling far too much blood heading south for comfort whilst sitting in public.

He pulled his hand finally from over hers and reached for his cup as an excuse to focus his attention away from her and his wandering thoughts. The cool liquid over his lips helped a little. He set down his cup and shifted in his seat, pulling his wayward thoughts back to the table and on what everyone else was talking about. He would have plenty of time alone with Teyla later.

He reached up and adjusted the collar of his shirt, a little too conscious now of where the last remains of his bug transformation sat below his collarbone. With every passing moment, the bite wound was healing up and it was likely that by the end of the week there would be no sign of it left at all.

However, the far newer love bite under his collar could easily be replaced.

00000000

Carson had had a lovely evening. He had first intended, after his long tiring afternoon, to join Teyla and John for there first team meal out of the isolation room, then a quick check in on his surgical patients from earlier, and then an early night. Instead, John and Teyla had been late to their meal, appearing freshly clean and slightly cautious. It was obvious to anyone that these two had taken full advantage of their time free of the isolation room. Carson had barely been able to hide his smile.

He had perhaps been the first to see the new atmosphere between them during their stay in the isolation room. As soon as they had woken up in the room from their week's enforced unconsciousness, they had been aggressive to anyone but each other, seemingly protecting one another, especially in the case of John. He had been exceptionally protective of Teyla at first. It was possible that it had been a purely instinctual reaction for a male who was already her close friend, but it had seemed far more possessive in Carson's opinion. Then, of course, the rather dramatic incident between John and Kanaan had only confirmed matters for him. The following weeks spent visiting them constantly throughout the days, and then sitting and enjoying their company in card games and watching movies, it had been obvious that the emotional situation between Teyla and John had altered.

He hadn't been surprised, for the attraction between them had been clear from that first day the expedition had welcomed the Athosians into the city. John and Teyla had maintained a close friendship within their team, but there had always been a certain level of distance that anyone watching could see was a mutual attraction. He had been surprised that this hadn't happened sooner, but then he had always been a romantic at heart. When he had leant of Kanaan, he had simply assumed that he had been wrong about the depth of feeling behind the attraction John and Teyla had for each other. It seemed now though, that he had been right originally. In an odd way, he felt kind of like he had played a role in it, being there with them in the isolation room, watching them grow closer than ever before and clearly dancing around what was growing between them at last. It seemed that once free of the isolation room, they had finally stepped over that line into a relationship.

After their initial embarrassment at being teased over dinner, the new couple had relaxed. It had been lovely to see the real expressed emotion in their eyes for each other, though surely controlled more than in private. It was so clear now, that not only were they very attracted to each other, but that there was a most powerful depth of feeling between them. It pleased Carson to see his friends have such care shown for them from another, and in this case, they were both his friends. He just prayed that the usual crazy Atlantis life would allow them to enjoy their relationship and allow it to last as long as possible. Hopefully for the rest of their lives.

Those happy romantic thoughts had continued as they had all enjoyed the rest of the meal together, only to be joined by McKenzie and then several more who had been the most frequent visitors to the isolation room. They had all moved outside to the balcony off the Mess to sit around two larger tables. Freshly baked pieces of chocolate cake had been delivered by the catering staff in honour of John and Teyla's escape and that future cakes in the Infirmary would now be safe from 're-acquisition'.

Sitting out in the fresh evening air, something Teyla had so desperately missed, she had sat happily beside John as everyone talked, her leg and shoulder clearly pressed up against his, taking advantage of the fact that so many of them had sat around the two tables. Carson had smiled at the peaceful happy smile across her face as she had looked up at the starlit sky over Atlantis. She was so happy to be free again, and beside her, John had been unable to stop himself from watching her smile up at the sky. Carson in turn had shared amused smiles with Ronon at seeing John's soft eyed staring at her. Each time John had caught himself staring and had looked away sharply around the table.

There was always a tendency to see only the struggle and suffering in the working life of Atlantis, but sometimes there were real wonderful events, including almost fairy tale moments. His own apparent 'return' from the dead was seen in that light by some in the city, which was an odd thought for him, but still, it was good to remember that there was as much good, noble, and inspiring about their job among the stars in the Ancient city of Atlantis.

With such profound thoughts on his mind, Carson entered the Infirmary. It was far later than he had originally intended to check in on his patients, but he would still visit the isolation room one more time to look in on those he had treated earlier. They would all survive he was sure, and unlikely to have to remain as long in there as John and Teyla had. The thought saddened him slightly. He had raced back to Atlantis as soon as he had been told about Teyla's original infection from the Wraith, worried and anxious to help. Though he had been successful in helping her, and then John as well, he really didn't have a reason to remain in Atlantis anymore. He would likely get to stay until the final blood tests from Teyla and John were in, which would be in about two days, and the last report handed in, but it was all over now really. He would have to pack up and return to his former work, and though he loved his research and helping as many people as he could, this long stay in the city had rejuvenated his love of living here with his friends, and of the work he could do here. He hadn't wanted his friends to have been so ill, but he had enjoyed being back here, especially now to see John and Teyla's new relationship beginning.

The slight down turn on his former bright mood was accompanied by the faint touches of sleepiness again, and so he redirected his steps towards the entrance to his lab. Though, it probably wasn't going to be 'his' lab anymore. He headed to his customary seat, intending to gather up his tablet and a small cup of coffee before he checked in on his patients. At which point he remembered that his favourite mug was broken.

"Oh, crap," he muttered. He would have to use one of the standard boring military issue mugs for his coffee.

"Doctor?" A familiar voice called to him from the entrance. He looked over his shoulder to see Nurse Julia stood there clutching a tablet.

"I'm just checking in on my patients, although I suppose they're not really mine," he joked, for she knew how much he liked to get involved with patient care. She had been a constant in Atlantis' Infirmary since their first day here, and she knew him well.

"Of course, I thought you would, so I thought maybe…I could pass something by you, unless you're tired and are heading to bed…" Julia offered, but there was a slight strain in her voice that told him that whatever she wanted him to see, was something important.

"Something up with one of the new patients?" He asked.

"Um, no," Julia replied and instead of remaining at the door for him to join her, she moved into the lab. "Actually it's about Teyla."

Carson paused, shifting gears immediately. He stopped short as she approached.

"Don't tell me the infection has returned?" He asked worriedly. He had been so certain that the original Wraith infection had been completely eradicated from her system by the Retrovirus. If it hadn't, then they had absolutely nothing else to use to save her!

"No, no, it's nothing like that, Carson," Julia reassured him immediately with an understanding smile as she reached him.

He let out a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank God for that."

"I ran her latest blood work from this afternoon through about an hour ago. We didn't run it as a priority with all our alien guests in far greater need," Julia explained.

"You found something new?" Carson asked worriedly as he reached for the tablet as she offered it to him.

"Not new, no," Julia replied as he turned the weight of the tablet computer in his hand to look at the displayed list of blood test results.

"Most of the levels are now back to normal as we expected, only that stubborn imbalance we noticed has become more apparent now," Julia told him.

He scrolled down through the list to the area that Julia was referring to and saw why it had caught her attention.

"As you can see, there is now a more obvious pattern to the results," she continued. "So, I ran a further test, which you didn't authorise, but I thought it would save time."

"That's fine, of course, Julia," Carson replied as he tapped the screen to bring up the next result. It would be the one test to confirm the pattern. "I would have asked you run it of course." The result popped up on the screen.

"As you can see it's a clear confirmation. So I went through all her past blood results, including her pre-mission tests before she went on the Wraith Hive mission," Julia said as she reached over the tablet and tapped away at the minimised older results. She tapped through them for him to see. "As you can see they were all completely normal, so I went through those after her return from the crash. Despite the damage the Wraith infection had on her system, it is clear that the results were negative back then."

She tapped once more and the blood tests appeared that they had performed on Teyla following her dramatic capture on top of that massive water treatment tank.

"As you can see, the levels only grew from then onwards," Julia concluded, her tone a little cautious.

"You're absolutely right," Carson agreed with her.

He knew the answer to all this, it was obvious, but it was still a shock. Though, he imagined it would be more of a shock for two other people, and of course there would be some worrying questions to check over.

He tapped on the tablet to bring up a protocol list to compare the extra test result Julia had ordered to the standard ranges that the Ancient testing machines could detect. The comparison was only further confirmation – levels consistent with three weeks.

"Which means that between her escape from the isolation room and her capture, while she was mutated by the Retrovirus, she became pregnant," Carson concluded.

0000000  
THE END!

Note1: Now, no shouting please…  
Note2: Love bite = Hickey - the US version that John would use, but love bite just worked better in that section.


End file.
